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#I want to be able to recapture the feelings I had before but there are certain experiences that so thouroughly crushed the person I had
aliciameade · 1 day
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Darkness at Dawn - Ch. 8
Title: Darkness at Dawn Author: aliciameade Rating: M/E Pairing: Stephanie Smothers/Emily Nelson Summary: Even Bonnie & Clyde met their fate eventually.
Set five+ years after "Baby."
Also on AO3
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“Can you please tell me what’s happening? I can keep whatever secrets you need me to.”
She and Emily are back in the kitchen cleaning up from the party. The boys have gone out with their friends to celebrate their graduation with strict instructions to call if anyone needs a ride home. Sean had departed with his parents without a word to anyone but Nicky. Stephanie’s mom was back at her hotel and the house and yard were empty save for the two of them.
Stephanie’s body is screaming for Emily’s touch, but she needs answers, at least one, first.
“I need to know if you’re here. If you’re really here. Or if a S.W.A.T. team is on its way to haul you back to prison.”
“I’m here, baby,” Emily says as she puts the serving trays back on the top cabinet shelf at Stephanie’s direction, where she would have to use a step stool to reach. “And I’m not going anywhere that you don’t want me to.”
“Explain. Please.”
Emily turns and leans against the counter, pulling Stephanie against her to gaze down at her in a way that makes Stephanie’s heart race. “I didn’t escape, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Stephanie laughs because the thought had crossed her mind. If anyone could orchestrate an elaborate prison escape, it would be Emily. “The possibility did occur to me.”
She shakes her head and brushes Stephanie’s hair back from her face. “I filed a motion to withdraw my confession. Said I did it under duress, that I was fearing for our sons’ safety if Sean were to retaliate against me and needed you to be freed to take care of them. They gave me a bench trial and I pleaded not guilty because I needed them to turn around and convict me. And then I appealed until my attorney was able to have a mistrial declared. Without my confession, they didn’t have enough evidence to uphold the murder charge and the rest of their case fell apart.”
“That’s it? Just like that?”
Emily chuckles. “That’s the quick version, but yeah, that’s it.”
“They’re not going to take you away? Or come for me, because you rescinded your confession? That’s what got them to dismiss most of the charges against me.”
“I’m not going anywhere. And they can’t charge you again; that’s double jeopardy. This is it, baby. We’re free.”
Stephanie tries not to think 15 steps—15 years—ahead when she starts imagining recapturing the future they were trying to have before this all began. “I still have two more years of probation.”
Emily's hand swats her ass playfully. “A cakewalk. I’ll keep you out of trouble.”
“Funny.” Stephanie shakes her head and her hands slide into Emily’s hair to start pulling her down. “I’m not dreaming?”
“You’re wide awake.”
“Then take me to bed.”
Emily captures her lips with the same fervor Stephanie feels. They’ve been apart for so long, unable to kiss, to touch. They haven’t felt each other since they’d been imprisoned in Greece nearly four years ago, and Stephanie tries to push away the thoughts of the possibilities that Emily’s been with others in their separation, whether out of desire or necessity. 
Stephanie hasn’t been touched by anyone. At first, she didn’t have any desire in her heartbreak. Then, she didn’t have the time, even when she did have desire. Her desire was shallow, though, and she found release through the memories of all the ways Emily had made love to her, of the first thrilling time, of Emily showing up at her front door wearing a strap-on to fuck her on top of a washing machine, of licking Emily on a jet during a business call, of Emily sucking her own essence off the dildo Stephanie had used on her, of slow, lazy sex in the mornings and of their reunion in Greece and the waters off Portugal. She didn’t think about their rendezvous in prison; those memories weren’t happy ones.
“I don’t know where your bed is,” Emily finally says with a hum against her lips when they’ve made it a few steps to the middle of the kitchen.
Stephanie giggles against her mouth and grabs her hand. “Our bed. This way.” 
She leads her down the hall and into her room, letting Emily make quick work of her dress and she of Emily’s blouse, working the buttons quickly until her body, as perfect as it’s always been even after the hardships it's been through, is beneath her hands once again. The long lines, strong muscles, the beauty marks and freckles and the tattoo around her wrist, her hair as it gets in the way and curtains them from the world, the feel of her heartbeat when she presses her lips to her chest, the sound of her breath in her ears and the perfume overwhelming her senses. She wants everything now, and she wants to delay it forever so it can’t end.
She’s fantasized about a reunion so many times but her imagination couldn’t have prepared her for what it would feel like now, after so long, to have Emily lay her back in bed and suck a mark into her neck and kiss her breasts and draw her underwear down her legs until her tongue licks through the wetness between her thighs that hasn’t been taken care of, really taken care of, for so long.
Her hands tangle in Emily’s blonde waves, heels pressing into her back as she arches her hips up in immediate desperation. She tries to curse but all she manages is a moan at the feeling of Emily’s warm, soft tongue against her. She remembers exactly how Stephanie likes it.
“Fuck, I’ve been dreaming about the way you taste,” Emily groans against her before one of her hands reaches up to cover Stephanie’s breast, gripping it possessively while the other keeps Stephanie spread for her tongue, lapping at her with as much need and hunger as Stephanie feels.
She comes hard and with little warning, her voice ringing as she cries out. She can hear Emily, too, moaning between the thighs that are pressed tightly against her ears, can feel her writhing against the bed with need and Stephanie pulls her up.
“Let me,” she says, kissing herself off Emily’s lips and chin before pushing her onto her back to move on top of her. Blonde hair splays across her pillow in a way she hasn’t seen in years. Emily’s chest heaves as Stephanie’s mouth moves over it, lips and tongue traveling across her breasts to suck at their peaks as naked hips rock against one another.
Emily’s fingernails scratch her back as she moves lower, kissing down her abdomen as legs part to make room for her.
Her tongue draws through Emily, her taste filling her memory. She’s missed it, too, but hasn’t forgotten it. She’s imagined it an infinite number of times as she brought herself to orgasm in the bed they’re now in, but it’s finally real again, Emily’s wetness is on her tongue and her voice fills her bedroom.
“Oh, fuck, baby,” Emily says with a stilted moan, her body shivering at the first touch. “Please,” she begs. “Please.”
She makes love to Emily with her tongue, circling and fluttering until she closes her lips to suck as she easily slides her fingers into her. She’s as soft and slick as she remembers, and moans when Emily tightens around them.
“Please, baby.”
Stephanie doesn’t know what Emily’s begging her for. She’s giving her exactly what she knows she needs until a shudder rolls through Emily’s body and fingers pull harshly at her hair and her voice hovers on a sharp edge of decision.
And then she realizes: she’s waiting.
She lifts her head just long enough to say, “Come for me, Em. I want you to come for me.”
She wraps an arm around Emily’s leg to hold onto her as her body rocks, her voice echoing in Stephanie’s ears like a song she can never forget.
It’s hard and fast like her own climax had been, hands flailing and grasping at anything, hips rocking and twisting, and once it passes, Stephanie knows they’re only getting started.
“Get up here,” Emily nearly growls, pulling Stephanie up until her tongue consumes her mouth, her fingers pressing into Stephanie without preamble. Stephanie’s never leave Emily.
She’s reminded of the first time they reunited in prison, it was in this same position. Though now they’re free. And alone.
“Fuck me,” Emily demands before kissing her so hard it almost hurts.
Stephanie can only moan at the request and work her hand harder, her hips riding Emily’s fast. “Come with me this time?” she asks against her mouth and Emily nods quickly, breaking off the kiss to moan.
There are no more words then, just a furious race to a mutual finish, sweat and heat and fingernails in Stephanie’s flesh and wetness between them as they both hover at the precipice until Stephanie falls first. Fingers press so deeply into her that she can barely breathe as Emily’s release draws her own in further, fingertips stroking inside her until Emily’s climax flows right into another, her thighs trembling beneath Stephanie as she goes silent, mouth open but no sounds escaping, body taut even as Stephanie feels it throb from within.
She watches with awe as it continues, Emily repeatedly falling apart with a few perfectly placed strokes of her fingertips. Again. And again.
It’s rendered Emily nearly lifeless, but Stephanie doesn’t need her to do anything. She grinds herself, fingers still inside, the years of pent-up need take her to another easy release as she looks at Emily’s form beneath her. A woman lost in ecstasy who’s unable to speak, a woman who’s gone to hell and back to be with her, who gave up her freedom to save her and give their kids a chance at a decent life, whose only movements are involuntary now as she’s a the mercy—and under the spell—of Stephanie.
She can barely breathe and she’s not sure Emily is still conscious, though the slight smile at the corners of her mouth gives her away.
“Holy shit, I missed you.” Emily’s voice is low and rough and her head lolls a bit on the pillow beneath her until her eyes find and focus on Stephanie’s. Her gaze is intense and it makes tears prick Stephanie’s eyes until she falls with a bit of a gasp against her, overcome with the need to be as close as possible.
Heavy arms wrap around her and hold her tightly, heat and sweat between them, legs intertwined and it’s almost suffocating, but if she could possibly get any closer, she would. Her face is buried in Emily’s neck, licking and mouthing at her skin until she feels her twist away, just enough to get Stephanie to lift her head to fill Emily’s mouth with her tongue.
Emily’s hands start to move everywhere again, strength returning by the second, though Stephanie can feel her thighs still trembling beneath her every time she shifts against the one between her own. She makes a few weak attempts to move, arms wrapped around Stephanie like she wants to roll them over but can’t.
She pulls back a little and smiles down at Emily. “You good?” 
Something makes Emily bite her lip and moan, but nothing’s happening; they’re both still for a brief moment. It’s as if a thought’s crossed her mind and Stephanie sees it in her eyes and starts to sit up before she says it.
“I need to put my tongue inside you, baby.”
The words make Stephanie’s knees almost give out as she crawls over her, pulling the pillow out from under Emily to make room for herself. She has to hug the headboard; Emily’s positioned so high on the bed and isn’t sliding down—perhaps isn’t able to, she thinks with pride. Emily’s nails drag down her back and up her thighs until they’re digging into her hips to pull Stephanie down to her mouth.
She braces herself with one arm and reaches down with the other to part herself with her fingers; it’s all she can do as Emily holds her firmly and teases her with the tip of her tongue before it presses inside Stephanie.
“Em, fuck…” she moans before holding her breath. Emily’s tongue is firm but soft as it slips in and out of her, fucking her slowly to draw every sound of Stephanie she possibly can.
Her fingers slip in her arousal and bump her clit making her moan sharply. 
Emily notices and pulls her tongue out of her to tilt her chin just enough to lick at Stephanie’s fingers where they rest against herself, finding her clit between them. “Do it, baby,” she says hotly before her tongue’s inside Stephanie again. She loosens her grip on her hips and encourages her to move.
She groans, brushing her fingers against her clit, knowing Emily is watching from just an inch or two away, riding her tongue slowly. She wants to be wild and reckless, but she might die if Emily’s tongue ever leaves her body. She needs to be measured and let Emily bring her to the peak.
This climax is different than the others have been tonight, building so slowly that it’s her thighs that tremble now as it starts inside her but travels out to her toes and up to her ears that are ringing with her pounding heart and her breath and Emily’s voice in a cacophony of white noise as cold heat rises until it spills through every inch of her body in endless waves that leave her gasping for air.
In the haze and confusion of ecstasy, she forgets for a moment that it’s real, that she’s not riding one of her toys and fantasizing about Emily.
She forgets until Emily’s voice cuts through the fog with words of praise and desire, words that sound like curses and prayers as her tongue licks through and over Stephanie’s fingers until she feels them being sucked.
She comes back to herself like a flipped switch and gives Emily her hand as she moves backward, a slow shuffle until she’s astride Emily’s waist, Emily’s hands around her wrist and forearm as her lips move over her fingers with as much sensuality as she might give to something else.
It’s a desperate act. They’re not thinking anymore, borderline animalistic with the need for each other and Stephanie watches in awe, her free hand playing with and pulling at the hardened peaks of Emily’s breasts until her own unbridled subconscious, stripped raw of shame now, of decorum, of guilt, makes her reach for her nightstand to find what she’s looking for.
Emily’s on another plane of existence. It’s a marvel to witness and Stephanie watches her face transform as she slips the silicone toy, one she had used on herself just a few days earlier, into Emily.
Teeth scrape Stephanie’s knuckles and Emily groans, legs spreading wider. She doesn’t even open her eyes, doesn’t even look at Stephanie as she starts getting fucked. It’s loud and lurid and Stephanie rides against Emily’s leg as she watches it play out beneath her, as Emily sucks on her fingers and silently begs Stephanie to keep going.
Emily comes so hard Stephanie can barely keep the toy buried inside her, her body first pulsing to push it out, and then to pull it in.
The longer it lasts, the more Stephanie starts to wonder if Emily had actually not been with anyone in prison at all, if she’d only used herself for pleasure, and how much—or little—of it she’d indulged in. She remembers the inherent lack of privacy in prison and how some women didn’t care; she saw more women pleasuring themselves than she ever thought possible. She was discreet, and did it rarely, in the middle of the night or when left alone in her cell.
The thought that Emily, a woman whose pleasure Stephanie considers to be a work of art, may have experienced so little of it for so long is almost heartbreaking. It’s a mix of relief and pride that perhaps Emily didn’t want anyone, even herself. That she only wanted it from Stephanie.
Stephanie can relate.
Her hand finally falls from Emily’s lips after a time and she can see Emily coming back to herself, first with a fluttering of eyelashes and then a soft smile on her lips as she finds Stephanie with her not-quite-focused gaze.
“You’re the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, baby,” she says through a heavy sigh, hands reaching for Stephanie. “Look at you. I don’t deserve you.”
“Shh, yes you do.” It’s not a competition, but she knows Emily would win the sexiest fucking thing competition, not Stephanie. She lets herself be captured and drawn in, blushing under the compliments as she fits into Emily’s familiar embrace. She’s still on the edge of orgasm, Emily’s having been so astounding that she’d temporarily forgotten about her own. But she wants it now; she’s so close and raw that she might come if she thinks about it for a few more seconds, but she wants to share it with Emily as they’ve done all night. She wants to pull the toy, still deep inside Emily, out and use it on herself.
Instead, she tries to relax and lets Emily kiss her. It’s slow and tired and when it’s evident that Emily’s spent and this is her wind-down, Stephanie nips her lip with her teeth. “Touch me, Em. I still need you, I’m so close.”
“Oh, my baby needs me,” Emily says with a pout that would be cute if it wasn’t so fucking sexy. Tired fingers appear between Stephanie’s thighs to touch her. She’s gentle. She knows it’s all Stephanie needs.
She watches Stephanie with the predatory smile that made Stephanie fall for her in the first place as she comes and she can’t look away, eyes locked on each other.
“I always need you,” she replies through her climax. It’s an intimate and disarming exchange as they’ve perhaps ever had, raw honesty, mutual vulnerability. Saying and doing things they’ve never done with anyone else, not with this intensity. Not even close.
It’s warm and slow and makes her shiver. It makes her wonder how she managed to survive so long without having Emily in her life this way. It makes her want her again immediately, but she’s too light-headed. It makes her want to consume Emily, to merge every bit of her into her own life, to fill all the gaps she left when she’d forced their separation.
“I love you so much,” she says, heart still racing. “I hope you know I never stopped.”
“I know, baby.” Emily’s free hand works to get Stephanie’s hair out of her face; it’s sticking to her and is a mess and Stephanie hadn’t noticed until then; not that she cares how her hair looks. “I felt it every day. It’s what kept me going. Why I did everything I did for you.”
“For us,” Stephanie corrects. She doesn’t realize she’s crying until she sees the teardrops that have landed on Emily’s chest.
Emily’s smile softens. “Us?”
Stephanie tilts her head quizzically.
“I didn’t want to be presumptuous.”
“Seriously?” Stephanie laughs. “After everything we’ve been through. Everything you did to help me get out. To get yourself out. After tonight…” she drifts for a moment. She’s lost track of how late it is but she doesn’t care what time it is so long as Miles didn’t come home in the middle of their frenzied lovemaking, her bedroom door having been left wide open. “Em.”
“Hmm?” She’s still playing with Stephanie’s hair, her demeanor turning increasingly gentle as the maddening lust between them has finally waned.
“Marry me, Emily. Again.”
A laugh escapes Emily and she sees the sparkle in her eyes she hasn’t seen in so long. “Are you being serious right now?”
“Yes, I’m being serious. As far as I’m concerned, we’ve been married this whole time. So let’s do it right this time. If you’re ready to, of course. If you have things you need to take care of, I understand. It’s been a long time. It took me months to feel normal again when I got out and I get it if you need to be independent for a while. I’ll still be here when you’re ready. If you’re ever ready.”
“Baby,” Emily says as she frames Stephanie’s face in her hands, thumbs brushing at the tears that are still on Stephanie’s cheeks.
“What?”
“Shut up.” She pulls Stephanie down to her and into a kiss, slow and passionate and deep but not one leading them somewhere. Not yet. “I’m taking your name this time.”
Stephanie squeals against their kiss and feels Emily’s arms wrap around her even though they’re both overheated by now. She has to struggle to get away from her kiss in a playful game until Emily lets her. “Is that a yes?”
“Of course, I’ll marry you, baby. I can’t wait to be Emily Smothers.” The tears falling now are Emily’s, though Stephanie’s not sure her own ever stopped.
“You really want to be Emily Smothers? I can take your name again, be a Nelson this time. Or we can hyphenate.”
“Stephanie,” Emily says with a tone of conviction she hasn’t heard from her often. And she doesn’t call her ‘baby.’ “I want to be your family. My last name doesn’t mean anything to me. Hell, I made it up; it doesn’t connect me to anyone or anything. I just want to be yours. I want to be us again.”
Stephanie’s heart is beating out of her chest. Just yesterday she was mentally preparing to have an empty nest, for Miles to leave for college in a couple of months, and for Nicholas to turn 18 so Stephanie would no longer need to negotiate with Sean to allow him to see the people in his life that he disapproves of, and for her life to become one of hobbies, work, and solitude. And now suddenly Emily is hers once more.
“Then let’s get remarried.”
Emily kisses her hard and grabs her ass firmly. Possessively. “Thank God today went well,” she says after a minute. “I didn’t have anywhere to sleep tonight.”
Stephanie scoffs at her. “I thought you said you didn’t want to be presumptuous?” She tosses damp hair over her shoulder and adopts a bit of a posh English accent. “I am a proper lady. I won’t be sharing my bed with any suitors prior to marriage.”
She can tell Emily wants to play along but her smile overtakes her and opts for a heavy cockney. “Ay, proper lady?”
“What?” Stephanie grins down at her.
“Can you kindly pull your dick out of me and fix us something to eat? I haven’t had suitable food in years and really fancy a bite.”
A bark of laughter escapes Stephanie; they’re delirious and she’d all but forgotten what they’d just finished doing. “Oopsy,” she says as she gently pulls the toy from Emily and kisses her before rolling off her and out of bed onto unsteady legs and drops the accent. “I’ll make you something but only if you change the sheets. The linen closet is down the hall.”
Emily groans and rolls over, spreading out her limbs like a starfish across the bed. “I’ve been making my bunk every day for five years and you’re going to make me make the bed? We’re just going to ruin it again.”
“That’s the deal.”
“Oh, that’s the deal?”
Stephanie pulls a T-shirt out of her dresser, something oversized from Miles’s high school, and slips it over her head. “That’s the deal.” She pauses in her doorway and turns around to look at Emily smiling at her from her bed. “What do you want to eat?”
“You.” She reaches out a hand in Stephanie’s direction. “Get back here.”
Stephanie tick-tocks her index finger at her and tsks. “You need food or you wouldn’t have asked for it. I’ll make you anything you want.”
Emily bites Stephanie’s pillow, eyes narrowing with a growl as she glares at her across the room. Stephanie wonders what she’s considering, if she really wants to have her again now, or if she’s just thinking back through all her favorite meals made by Stephanie.
“Spaghetti and meatballs and garlic bread. With that fresh bread I saw on the counter. Did you bake it?”
“I did,” Stephanie says with a laugh. “Is that all? Maybe tiramisu for dessert?”
Emily moans in a different way than she has all evening. “I wouldn’t say no to it.” Emily looks as happy as Stephanie remembers her being in their last, brief, life together as she starts to haul herself out of bed. “I accept your terms.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
The spaghetti boils over when Emily insists on trying to make Stephanie come more quickly than it would take to cook the pasta, bent over the dining table with Emily on her knees behind her. She had succeeded until she decided to try for two.
Other than that [enthusiastically welcomed] interruption, Stephanie’s able to prepare a three-course Italian dinner at 2:00 AM: Caesar salads, spaghetti and meatballs, freshly baked garlic bread, red wine, and a pint of gelato she found in the freezer. She doesn’t have the ingredients on-hand that she needs to make tiramisu or she would have. Emily happily watches it all by her side, wearing Stephanie’s dusty pink satin bathrobe. It’s comically short on her.
She moans so much while eating that Stephanie struggles to keep her hands to herself and let the woman indulge in another kind of passion. She remembers her first days after freedom:  long baths, long walks, favorite foods, lots of wine. Lots of sitting on a quiet park bench in the sun doing nothing. All of it felt new again, and Emily’s been deprived of it for twice as long as she had been.
Stephanie’s in Emily’s lap—in it, not straddling it—feeding her ex-wife and fiancée lemon gelato off her index and middle fingers (it has a bad habit of dripping onto Emily’s exposed chest) when she hears the front door open. She shushes Emily mid-groan.
“Miles, sweetie, is that you?” She tugs the sides of the robe together across Emily’s mostly exposed breasts and pulls her shirt lower over her thighs.
“Yeah,” he shouts across the house. “Why are you up so late?” His words are slurred slightly and she sees Emily’s eyebrows lift in surprise when he’s standing in the kitchen in front of them. “Oh. Uhh, hey Mom.” He’s addressing Emily and Stephanie loves that he still sees her as a mother. 
“Hey, Miles. You had a good night?”
“Yeah, thanks. Sorry, Nick’s at his place.”
“That’s okay, I’ll see him tomorrow.”
He averts his eyes and Stephanie knows that he’s drunk. It’s not his first time, but they’ve talked a lot about being responsible about it, and he always gets a ride home or calls her for one. If he hadn’t been drunk, she knows he would have spun around and hurried off after finding his half-dressed mother sitting in someone’s lap.
Instead, he heads for a cabinet to grab a bowl and fills it with what’s left of the spaghetti sitting on the stove. 
“You staying here?” he asks Emily through a bite of garlic bread, ready to shovel pasta in behind it. “Moving in, I mean.”
Stephanie meets her inquiring gaze and nods.
“Yeah, I am. Is that okay with you?”
He takes another bite. “Yeah, it’s cool. Mom really missed you.” Stephanie hides her smile; something about him knowing that—of course, he knows that—making her feel bashful. “I guess I did, too.”
That makes her need to look up at the ceiling to blink away tears.
Emily’s arms tighten where they’re resting around Stephanie’s waist. “I missed both of you, too. More than you’ll ever know.”
“Cool,” Miles says before grabbing the entire second loaf of garlic bread and taking his leave. “I’m going to bed. Thanks, Mom,” he adds, saluting Stephanie with the bread. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“Goodnight, Smooch. Drink a glass of water before you go to sleep.” She hears him grunt at the nickname.
“You let him drink?” Emily says incredulously as soon as he’s gone.
She hears his bedroom door slam a few seconds later. “I don’t let him. But he’s going to do it no matter what I say, so it’s better that he knows he can trust me instead of rebel against me.”
“Do you let Nicky drink?”
“You know that’s not up to me.”
“I know, and I’m not testing you.” One of Emily’s hands moves to rest under Stephanie’s shirt on her hip. “Does he though?”
Stephanie measures Emily’s question and finally nods. “He’s crashed here a few times after going out with Miles. Just high school parties. Sean grounds him if he catches him. He was on the football team; I don’t know what he expected. But he’s a good boy.”
Emily exhales at that. “Thank you for taking care of him.” She smiles and her eyes are wet. “I don’t just mean those nights. I mean this whole time, since we met. Especially while I was away.”
“Of course.” She can’t help but kiss Emily’s forehead, the reversal in height difference a rare treat. “I did my best.”
“Look at you, huh?” Emily says with a growing smile. “The woman who was afraid her son might hurt himself playing with action figures is teaching him how to avoid a hangover. You’re not the woman you were when we first met.”
She shakes her head. “No, I’m not.”
“Good,” Emily says approvingly. “Because this is the woman I want to be with.”
Stephanie feels Emily’s arms shifting and she squeaks when she’s suddenly being carried out of the kitchen. “Wait, wait, let me put this back in the freezer.” She still has the pint of gelato in her hand.
“It’s coming with us.” Emily hits the switch for the kitchen lights with her elbow before carrying her back to the bedroom.
“You’re going to have to change the sheets again.”
“Easiest time I’ll ever do.”
“After you make love to me again.”
“Oh no, please, C.O., don’t send me down to the hole,” Emily deadpans as she grabs the container from Stephanie’s hand so she can drop her into the freshly made bed, immediately moving to straddle her, the borrowed robe falling open on its own accord.
“Do not call it that ever again,” Stephanie interrupts, sitting up to make her point. It’s funny, but it’s a hard pass for her.
Emily laughs at her own joke and pushes Stephanie back down and pulls her shirt up until Stephanie removes it herself. “Don’t worry, baby. I want to be locked up in yours.”
She hisses as coldness drips across her breasts. The gelato is mostly melted by now. “We’re going to need to take a bath after this.”
She watches Emily lean down to trace her tongue along the path she’s drawn, licking the droplets off her skin. “Together?” She pauses above Stephanie’s hardened nipple to smile up at her. “That’s cruel and unusual punishment.” Her lips close around it.
Stephanie’s fingers slide through Emily’s hair to hold her there, back arching into the touch. “Guilty as charged.”
The End
~*~*~*~*~*~
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ko-eko-ev-go-ms · 1 year
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Brain is braining too much me thinks
#thoughts#oni talks#oni vents#I feel like I’m being torn between 2 futures and I know one isn’t really realistic and is a thing of the past but it’s also like#not only does it feel like giving up but it also feels like I’d have to face the fact that I can’t go back and unexperience some things#that changed me as a person and I know me wanting to go down that path is me trying to go back to when I first started feeling hope for#life again (if I ever had that tbh) & it’s meant so much to me for so long and like I know that I 100% would not be able to have achieved#any of what I’ve achieved now if I hadn’t started that first path. the fact that the second one is even an option is because of the first.#I also wonder how much is on me & it compounds in the severe regret I’ve been having about some recent stuff in my life along with recurrent#realizations and nightmares of the past haunting me & just. it’s so painful I know maybe I’m being dramatic and there’s a possibility that#in the future if it will work out and I can have my cake and eat it too but I genuinely don’t know how realistic that is to achieve#I want to be able to recapture the feelings I had before but there are certain experiences that so thouroughly crushed the person I had#finally begun to build up that I don’t know if that’s truly possible & if I just have to accept that I need to change to face who I am now#I’ve been really stuck recently when it comes to getting better and I know why but I’ve also blocked out so much of it that it’s just like#hard to even work through things you just want to forget and act like they never happened because that’s easier & logically I know it doesnt#work that way but it still feels painful. I feel the weight of my mistakes on my shoulders again. & it’s been resulting in what I know is#a lot of self sabotage & I feel like I should be better than this but I’m not I feel like I’ve regressed & like it wasn’t that long ago that#I literally felt like I was a kid again it was so surreal and strange & gross & I just hate so much of what’s happened in my life but I also#know there’s a lot of good that’s come from it & so it’s hard to process all these awful things when I know if they weren’t there the stuff#that I do love wouldn’t be either. it’s really hard to hope for a future I’ve never experienced. I’ve been meeting so many new people & its#reminded me of how anxious I actually am as a person bc normally I don’t have to face that bc I am by myself or in specific scenarios I’ve#cultivated to be tolerable & i feel like I keep learning things about myself or my experiences that I just don’t want to learn or to exist#& it’s frustrating bc there’s also so much pressure not just from myself but other ppl that I want to be able to pull through & do things#I know are probably not the most realistic but then a part of me is angry at myself at being a coward & wondering if I’m just awful & broken#I’ve been trying to fight back in what ways I can and the results have (usually) been really good but they come with their own prices#I hate how easy it’s become to simultaneously prefer escapism while not feeling like things are bad enough or that there is no escapism#I hate that I keep having moments where I get things and then I just fall again & Ik I’ll get there eventually but I’ve lost so much hope#that I don’t know if it’s even possible to ever get back. the last year or so is just so many ups and downs and new things and idk#I feel so torn because this is a future I foresaw and even wanted at some point and now it feels so heavy & costly & I just feel#like I’m evil & irredeemable or smth & every time I get told the opposite a part of me immediately can’t accept it especially
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lets-get-saucy · 5 months
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One More - Leah Williamson (smut)
Leah Williamson x reader
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Summary: a night in where your girlfriend takes care of you
Warnings: smut, reader receiving, aftercare, fluff mixed in(kind of)
a/n: somewhat rushed but I hope you like it. Let me know have any requests or suggestions 💙
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The evening had started out as a typical Friday night with your girlfriend. The two of you had dinner together and then cuddled up to watch a movie on the couch. Leah's head was currently resting on your chest as she laid on top of you. Your fingers traced shapes on her lower back under the t-shirt she was wearing. Her skin was warm to the touch and as your fingers continued their pattern the blonde squirmed in your grasp. When your hands stilled Leah's head popped up, her brows furrowed.
“Whats wrong babe?” you questioned, silently laughing to yourself at your girlfriends grumpy expression.
“You stopped” she pouted.
 Bringing your hands up to cup her cheeks you place a kiss to Leah’s lips. As you pull away she quickly recaptures your lips deepening the kiss. Her nails lightly scratch up your sides causing a groan to slip from your lips allowing Leah to slip her tongue in your mouth. Your hands move from her face to her hair, gently pulling as your mouths move together. Leah adjust slightly, one of her legs slotting in between yours. Her thigh brushes your core as her lips trail across your jaw causing you to moan at the sensations. She works her way down your neck biting and sucking as you arch up under her.
“Leah please” you whimper.
“Please what baby girl?” Leah says before biting your ear.
“I need you”
Leah pulls away from you sitting back on her heels her hands rubbing up and down your thighs.
“So needy and all from a few kisses” smirking she tsk at you.
Propping yourself up on your elbows you, look up at her from under your lashes, “please Lee.”
Sliding her hands from your thighs up to you stomach, her fingers brush under your shirt slowly pulling it up. You sit up more to make it easier to get the shirt off. Once the shirts over your head Leah tosses it to the side staring at you. You didn’t have a bra on, and your nipples were already hard.
“So beautiful” Leah says before leaning down to kiss you again.
You stop the kiss only to pull Leahs shirt off before you pull her back to you reconnecting your lips. Leah nips at your bottom lip as you pull her down with you as you lay back down. Leahs hands find your breast squeezing gently playing with them. Her kisses move down your neck once more before swirling her tongue around one of your nipples, her hand pinching the other. Moaning, you press your body further into hers wanting more, needing more.
“Lift you hips for me baby” you do as your told and Leah pulls your shorts and underwear down your legs before tossing them to the floor.
Her lips find your neck pressing open mouth kisses and sucking as her fingers trace soothing circles on your hips. One of Leah’s hands slides down her thighs, lightly scratching. You can feel how wet you are, all from a few kisses and gentle touches.
“Leah please” you gasp, “I need you”
“Patience baby” she reassures you, “it’ll be worth it, I promise”
You let out a whimper as two of Leah’s fingers graze up your slit. The blonde nips at your ear before groaning.
“So wet for me already” her fingers brush up in down teasing you in the most agonizing way.
You can’t control the moan that slips out when Leah’s fingers circle your clit. Your hands grab Leah’s face pulling her in to reconnect your lips. Gasping as her fingers work Leah’s uses this to slip her tongue in your mouth deepening the kiss. Your hips move in rhythm to her fingers, you’re already so close feeling the tension build up in your lower stomach.
“Do you want my fingers baby” Leah ask slowing down the movement with her hand.
You nod in response, grinding your hips up into her.
“Words darling” she says kissing your neck.
“Yes Leah, god please” barely able to string together words to respond to her.
Two of her fingers slip inside you, causing your back to arch as you head falls back. Leah’s fingers pump in and out hitting that perfect spot each time. You’re a mess underneath her, moans and gasp falling from your lips. You grip on to her shoulder with one hand the other scratching down her back as waves of pleasure wash over you. Leah adjust her position slightly, so her palm hits your clit on each thrust of her fingers. You feel your walls clinch around her fingers knowing you won’t be able to last much longer.
“Leah I’m going to” you mutter burying your face in her neck.
“It’s okay baby, let go” she reassures you, using her knee to help fill you even deeper.
Your orgasm overtakes you, your nails digging into Leah’s back as she works you through the pleasure. Panting you try to catch your breath as you come down from your orgasm. Leah’s fingers still before she slowly removes them. You whimper at the loss, but Leah uses her other hand to brush your hair out of your face tucking it behind your ear.
“I know, you did so well sweet girl” she kisses your cheek, then your temple, before placing a gentle kiss to your lips.
You both lay like this for a few moments sharing kisses as Leah whispers sweet praises to you. Soon enough your eager to please Leah, showing her just how good she just made you feel. Leah stops you and you look at her confused.
“I want to touch you” you say as your hands slide up and down her sides.
“I know, but I want tonight to be about you.” Leah says sitting up slightly, “let me take care of you”
With that you nod at your girlfriend, never one to tell her no, especially to more orgasms. Settling back on top of you, Leah places warm open mouth kisses down your body. Her hands pull your thighs up as she kisses down your thighs, softly biting your inner thigh causing your hips to thrust up. She lightly licks up your slit causing you to shutter, still sensitive from your first orgasm, as she settles between your legs the best she can on the couch.
“My sweet girl” Leah groans, her fingers digging into your hips “You taste so good”
Your fingers grasp on the couch, Leah’s warm breath hitting your center sending a shiver up your spine in anticipation. Leah licks lightly at first slowly building you back up. Her tongue grazes your clit, and your hands grab at her hair needing her closer. Licking down again, Leah’s tongue dips into your entrance causing you to let at a moan pulling at her hair. Her tongue works its way back up before she sucks at your clit. Arching up into her you know you wont last long, you second orgasm building up faster than the first. One of Leahs hands scratches down your thigh, as her tongue stays attached to your clit. You feel her fingers make their way back up before she inserts two into you. Leah curls her fingers up to hit your g spot while sucking on your clit. Your thighs shake as your toes curl, digging in to the couch under you.
“I’m so close” you whimper.
Leah speeds up her movements, using her free hand to hold your hips in place. Grinding down on Leah’s face you let go, your second orgasm of night fitting in full force. Leah licks at your clit as you come, her fingers gently moving inside you working you through your orgasm. As you start to come down from the orgasm, Leah removes her fingers, gently licking up your juices. Your hands fall from her hair, your body limp with pleasure as Leah kisses your hip before sitting up.
“Are you okay baby?” Leah ask her hands softly rubbing your thighs.
You nod and mhm at her unable to form words. She bends down to press a quick kiss to your lips before standing.
“Be right back” she says walking to your shared kitchen.
From where you lay on the couch you can hear Leah grabbing a glass and the tap turning up. She comes back to the living room with a glass of water. She sets the glass down on the coffee table before helping you sit up. You cuddle in close to her side, never getting tired of close contact with the woman.
“I need you to drink some water for me baby” Leah says running her hands soothingly through your hair.
After you have a few sips you sit the glass down leaning back into Leah.
“Bath or shower?” the blonde ask after a few minutes of cuddling.
“Bath”
She stands up, causing you to pout. You didn’t want to get up yet. You were comfortable curled into her side on the couch.
“come on, ill run you a bath then after we can cuddle in bed” Leah reaches a hand out to you and you take it standing on wobbly legs.
Her hands grip your hips steading you before leading you to your shared room. Now long after you’re in the bath, settled between Leahs legs resting your head on her shoulder. You notice Leah’s hands begin to mutter and you whimper. She bites your ear as her hands inch closer to your center.
“Leah”
“One more baby, then I promise cuddles in bed” she says tilting your head up so she can kiss you.
Your hinds find the blonde’s thigh and you squeeze, a silent okay to continue what she was doing. She’s slower this time, her fingers barely touching your clit as her lips move down your neck. Your hips begin to move as pleasure finds you again. Leah bites down on your neck sucking as you moan.
“That’s it, be a good girl and come for me again” she says, her fingers circling your clit.
Your third orgasm hits you faster than the previous two. Leah’s fingers are steady as your head falls back her lips meeting yours, working you through your orgasm. After you come down, Leah kisses your neck, your shoulders, her hands gently moving across your skin as she whispers how good you are. She begins to clean you up sneaking kisses as she helps wash you. Once your all clean Leah gets out of the bath first, returning to you with a warm towel before drying you off.
Settling down in bed, you wrap yourself around Leah, unable to get enough of her. Her hands rub up and down your back, pulling you closer to her.
“I love you” Leah says pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Love you too baby” you say before kissing her.
“Let’s get some sleep, maybe tomorrow you can repay me” the blonde jokes.
You scoff, rolling your eyes even though she can’t see it.
“I’m only joking love” Leah says.
“I know baby, goodnight” you say placing one last kiss for the night to her lips.
“Goodnight baby”
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youraverageaemondsimp · 4 months
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Eyes of Emerald Green // Vampire!Alys Rivers x Targaryen!Reader
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MDNI, DD:DNE(?)
Summary: the woman who once plagued your dream while you were young, reappears.
WARNINGS: slight dubcon, age gap, sexual tension, masturbation, oral (both f), wlw relationship, vampire x human, blood drinking, cunnilingus, blood kink, tiddy sucking, face sitting, canon divergence, breeding kink(?) idk, multiple orgasms. + not proofread
WC: 3.4k
A/N: THE LONG AWAITED FIC LMAO, I've been teasing this since Halloween October 2023 💀💀💀 and now it's finally here 😳❗// divider creds to @cafekitsune
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“Spare no man, woman, child or any bastard!” You commanded the guards who were capturing and killing the members of the house strong, this was not your original plan, but after hearing what had happened to king's landing, you vented your frustration on the house you despised the most, house strong.
Recapturing harrenhal was your brother's idea, you simply led the army, yet the city of kings landing was soon attacked, and when you had heard of it, you were stricken with rage.
The sounds of metal clinking, flesh being cut through was like a pleasant lullaby to your ears, you felt a sick sense of accomplishment even though the city had faced a big loss.
You were participating in the massacre too, stabbing the bodies of the members over and over again, covered in their blood, your hair matted as the blood dried up, yet you still did not stop.
But then suddenly you felt a shiver run up your spine and you spun around to see a woman, who appeared to be youthful, standing there in her maids robes, something about her drew you in, and you gasped when you made eye contact.
Emerald green eyes that seemed to piece through your soul, you suddenly felt vulnerable as if she could see through you and you remained frozen in place as you stared at her, you noted how you oddly felt a sense of familiarity with her.
Her eyes reminded you of the woman who appeared in your dreams a few years ago. You remember going to sleep that night and woke up with the feeling of something heavy sitting in your chest and opened your eyes to see the emerald green irises staring at you, you remember not being able to scream, and watched as she bared her fangs before biting down on your neck, you quickly woke up terrified and screamed, the servants immediately rushed in hearing the noise, you had tried telling them what happened and they simply dismissed it as a nightmare.
Those very same eyes were staring at you right now, as you massacred the house she probably served or belonged to.
Yet she did not look scared, but rather a sick expression of relief was on her face, almost as if she was expecting this to happen, as if she knew– that this would happen. You went towards her direction and stopped in front of her, she didn't budge, but merely stared, the blood that had stuck to your armour and hair did not scare her away, but instead, her breathing picked up, almost as if she was sniffing at the stench.
“You– who are you?” You asked and she smiled, “I had expected your arrival, my princess.” she did not answer your question but just stated what she wanted to and you raised an eyebrow, grip tightening on the sword, “And how exactly?” You asked and her eyes drifted to your sword for a moment before she made eye contact with you again, “I saw it in my dreams, my visions.” she replied.
“I hope that in your vision you had also foreseen your death, it would make it less shocking for what I am gonna do to you.” You reply sternly, beginning to shift to a more offensive position, ready to attack her but she just chuckled, “You wouldn't hurt me.” She said confidently and you scoffed, “And how exactly did you come to the conclusion that I would spare you?” You question, “Because princess, nobody knows you as well as I do, after all we've met before.” You just roll your eyes and grab her by the throat, but she doesn't struggle, “You want to be the queen.” the words that leave her mouth makes you halt and you immediately let go of her, eyes wide in shock. “You are but a mere third daughter of King Viserys, much more dutiful than your half sister and your elder brother, you are supporting him for the sake of blood, but deep down, you want the iron throne for yourself, don't you?” She speaks and you remain speechless, wondering how she knows everything. “And your younger brother, is now prince regent, though he was born after you, he was still given preference over you to rule as a regent, even as a kinslayer, he is sitting on the throne in your elder brother's stead. Is that not unfair? Had you not done more than him? Especially being a woman?” You continue to remain silent as she speaks, and how correct she is, “I can help you.” She says and you look at her, “My visions will be of use to you, which is the exact reason you will be sparing me.” She finishes talking and by the end of it, it felt as if you had fallen into her carefully woven trap. You thought about it for a mere moment, you could just kill her and be done with it, fight your own battles, but when has anyone conquered their own selfishness, and just like that, you had accepted her help.
“What is your name?” You asked her and she smiled, “Alys rivers.”
Just like that she was spared.
The news had reached King's Landing, where Aemond was ruling as a regent, he successfully managed to seize the throne back to him and executed all of the black's spies in the city, and regained full control over it.
“Harrenhal has now successfully been recaptured by the princess Y/N, though when she had heard of what happened to the city, she was enraged and directed that anger towards the House Strong, she had successfully eliminated the house, no woman, no bastard, no child was to be spared, except only one was spared, a bastard and a wet nurse called Alys Rivers, it seemed that the princess had taken a liking to her.”
Aemond read the letter of report, eyebrows furrowed, he knew how you would be in anger, impulsive and quick, so he was surprised when he heard that you spared someone, but did not think much of it, he came to the conclusion that though your tastes were different, you deserved to have your own spoil of war, so he did not question anything, and allowed you to be as you are.
Meanwhile, as the days passed, you and alys had gotten closer, she told you everything she saw in her visions and you figured how accurate she was, it seemed as though she was given the sight to see into the future.
You sat in your chair, dipping the quill into the ink before writing it down on the parchment paper, writing down reports of the nearby area, trying to note of any suspicious behaviour to immediately correct until your eye landed on a specific report, “Man found dead at the shore of the God's eye river, there were two bite marks on multiple parts of his body, and his flesh was torn as if though he had been ripped apart by a wild beast.” You furrowed your brows, could this be a result of a beast attack? If so, you have to hunt it down before there are any more victims.
Just then the door opened and you saw Alys, who was now walking towards you, holding a tray of tea cups and, “You had been working since the morrow, I had bought some tea.” she placed it down on the table, and you could help but take note of her attire, a low cut neckline, that almost spilled her breasts outside when she leaned down, you cleared your throat and nodded.
It seemed as if she was trying to do that on purpose.
Things quickly moved, and as months passed by, the blacks had slowly lost the war and the news of Aegon's passing had reached your ear, and though you were sad that you had lost a brother, the line to the iron throne cleared by itself, and you felt a sick sense of satisfaction.
As the situation remained stagnant for a while, you had began your search into the beast that was attacking many people, the victims had increased from when you last heard the report, and what you found odd was how whenever you'd ask Alys for the help in this matter, she would avoid it, or not give proper answers.
And so you decided to confirm your suspicions which were gnawing at your gut as you began to place the pieces together and called her to your chambers in the middle of the night.
Which you should've realised was a bad idea.
“You have summoned me? My princess?” She asked, and you rubbed your thighs together, trying to ignore the sense of arousal that was beginning to drip from you whenever you would see her, “Hm? Yes, I wanted to ask you something.” You thickened your voice.
“I have noticed your behaviour whenever I would bring up the beast attackings, you know something don't you?” You question and she remains silent, “No answer, hm.”
“Alys,, do you know a few years ago, I dreamt of a woman with eyes just like yours? Resembling emerald stones, and she was on top of me and bit down into me” you began to tell her randomly and you noticed how her expression changed slightly.
Right on the target.
“And I remember you saying that you had known me, though I thought it was because of your visions, I soon began to put everything together.” You continued.
“You are the beast in question right? The one that sucks blood for living?” You accuse and she swallows thickly, “Do not lie to me, Alys.” You command and she sighs before quickly accepting the accusation. “Yes, it is me, what am I meant to do? It is the only way I can feed myself, normal food makes me want to vomit.” Her tone changes.
“Why not animal blood?” You question and she rolls her eyes, “It isn't as tasty.” she simply says and you are in disbelief, “If you wanna drink from humans, at least don't kill them, do you not have witchful powers? Why not erase their memory?” You suggest, trying to help her out because you did not want to resort to killing immediately, after all, she did help you in a lot of things.
“If I was capable then I would've done it, there is no other way, and it seems I'd have to kill you too now, I cannot let my secret get out, what a shame, I liked you.” She says and comes closer to you, “Why would I tell anyone?” You question and she stops, confused. “It isn't beneficial to me with you gone, I just wanted you to stop killing that's all.” You tell her and she smirks, “So you're not going to be telling anyone?” she asks and you nod, “It would mean loss for me.” You tell her and she bursts out laughing and you stare at her confused.
“My lady, I knew you were always so interesting and unique, but this was far behind my expectations.” She says and comes closer to you, you take a few steps back before the back of your knees hit your bed, causing you to stumble and sit on it.
You stare at Alys as she looks at you from above and you felt as if your bad dream was coming true, her hands trail towards your neck and to the back of your head before she yanks your head backwards by your hair, exposing your neck. You breath heavily as you stare at her and she slowly bares her fags before biting down onto your neck and you gasp, gripping her shoulders, trying to push her away.
She sucks on your blood for a bit before pulling away and you stare at her wide eyed, her fangs now completely out as your blood drips from the side of her mouth. Her pupils look dilated, she wipes away the blood from the back of her hand and pushes you onto the bed completely.
“Alys– I command you to–”
“Hush princess, we both know that you want this. You think I haven't noticed the way you squirm in my presence? Your skirts don't do a good job at hiding the way you rub your thighs.” She shushes you, you stare at her bewildered. She places one knee onto the bed before slowly climbing it, you try to scurry back but she pulls you by your thigh and yanks you closer towards her, now she is face to face with you. Her arms placed on either side of you, trapping you in between her as she leaned further in before she captured your lips with her own.
Heat bloomed through your cheeks as she kissed you, she swiped her tongue on your bottom lip asking for entrance to which you allowed her, she wasted no time before pushing her tongue inside your mouth, intertwining it with your own.
You cringed at the metallic taste of your blood from before, but you didn't pull away and began kissing her back, she moaned into the kiss when she felt you reciprocating her actions, she pulled away and took deep breaths.
“You're so fucking pretty princess.” She kissed your cheek before trailing downwards to your neck and licked the spot which she had bit before and pressed a kiss to it, before going further down and pressing a kiss to your collarbone.
“I know what you want, princess.” She undid the front lace of your gown and slowly pushed it down your shoulders, her eyes darkened as more of your body was revealed to her, she licked her lips at the sight of your breasts as she pulled your gown further down. You lifted your hips and helped her pull it off from you completely.
“Or should I say, My Queen?” You freeze at those words and you immediately stare at her face in shock, “That's treason.” You retort but she smirks, she caresses your cheek with her thumb before she brings it to your lips, pressing gently. “What's treason is your thought of usurping your own brother.” You gulp as she reveals what she knew and you remain silent, not denying it or agreeing with it. She tilts your head upwards before pressing her lips to yours once again.
The kiss gets heated once again, you tug at her gown, indicating that you want her to take it off but she pulls away and pushes your hand away gently, “Uh uh.” she says, denying you. You furrow your brows and are about to say something but you aren't able to get anything out when you feel her cup your cunt.
You watch her shift, travelling downwards your body and stare as she forces your legs wide open. Your heart begins to speed up, anticipation killing you while you observe her.
She presses a kiss to your inner thigh and without a warning, her mouth is latched on to your count which causes you to fall backwards in pleasure. She wastes no time and makes swift strokes with her tongue against your clit, you moan and whimper at her abuse to your cunt, your hand flies to grip her hair when you feel her bite you slightly, you push your hips forward while holding down her face to your cunt. Her arms around your thighs and she slightly lips your hips off the mattress.
Her tongue prods at your entrance and your eyes widen you feel her push it inside you, her nose nuzzling against your clit, she begins to bob her head in and out, fucking you with her tongue. She licks one long stripe up your cunt and latches herself onto your clit again and suckles on it.
This causes heat to bloom in your lower abdomen, making you gasp her name as you feel every inch of your body twitch in pleasure as your high hits you. You ride your orgasm out on her face and she slowly pulls away. Her lips were coated with your essence and she licks it all up, which further arouses you.
You watch through hooded eyes as she kisses up your stomach and stops in between your breasts, she presses a small kiss to the flesh of teat, and soon she's suckling on your nipple like a babe while staring at you.
You could do nothing but just observe, too caught up in the pleasure, you caress her hair which causes her to smirk as she lets go of your breast with a wet pop. She quickly bites down on the flesh of your breast, sinking her fangs in and sucking the blood out.
You grunt in pain but couldn't help but enjoy the slight pleasure you're getting from it. It feels comparable to when you scratch an itch. You breath heavily and you begin to feel light headed as your body finally registering the loss of blood you're experiencing, you slowly begin to lose consciousness but you are pulled away from it with a harsh slap to your cheek, making you come back to your senses as the adrenaline rushes to your brain.
You noticed that she was no longer drinking blood, but was removing her garments, undoing her clothes until she's bare just like you. Your eyes widened at the sight of her body, her pale body seemed to glow on its own.
You try to get up to feel her body but she pushes you down and shifts positions to where she's hovering above your face, you lick your lips staring at her cunt. She holds your head by your forehead before slowly descending down onto your mouth and you immediately welcome her clasping onto her.
She gasps as you work your tongue against her cunt, “Good girl.” She praises you and you clench your thighs at the praise, aroused by it. It doesn't go unnoticed by her as she chuckles.
“Who knew that the future queen gets aroused at merely being called a good girl?” She ponders mockingly and you freeze at what she had revealed. “Why did you stop?” She begins grinding herself against your face. “Is it because I had revealed that you'd be the future queen?” She asks and you wrap your arms around her thighs as a way to say yes.
“Hmm.. Yes, I'll only reveal more if you put your tongue to work.”
You did not need to hear more and you immediately began putting your tongue to work, flicking it up and down against her clit before sucking on it, the act is making you aroused yourself so you unwrap one of your hands from her thigh and take it down to your cunt, rubbing on the clitoris.
“I've seen it in my dreams.” She begins, slowly humping against your face, “You, donning the conqueror's crown, seated on the iron throne.” you imagined it and that only got you more aroused, you pushed a finger inside your cunt and began to pump it, in and out.
Alys whimpered when you clamped down on her clit, desperately sucking on it. “Yours will be the song of ice and fire.” She tells you and your eyes widen, at the very same moment she reaches her peak and finishes with a loud moan, you peak simultaneously as well.
She rides out her peak but all you can think about was what she had revealed, you felt elevated, combined with everything, you felt as though you were floating.
You watch as she gets off your face and sits next to you, you still lay there, processing and imagining it, “Will you be by my side?” You ask her, before slowing getting up, hair dishevelled as her juices coated your chin.
“Of course, who would father your children then?” Her words make you furrow your brows, “How? We're both women? that sounds illogical.” You try to reason and she smirks, “Do not fret about these things, I have my ways to do it.” She tells you and you nod, brushing it off.
You've seen many things that didn't make sense, having a child with her may as well be possible.
You knew whatever Alys had said would come true, and they did all come true, though it cost your brother's life, you did not feel an ounce of guilt as you slayed him with your own hands, deeming you a kinslayer, though the curse did not matter to you, cause you would be the ruler of the seven kingdoms for ages to come.
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— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡
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109 notes · View notes
bots-and-cons · 1 year
Note
Hello! Have you watch Avatar : The Last Airbender? If you have, how would DreadWing, Megatron and Optimus react that their s/o or crush is an Avatar and can control all elements? I find the contrast is fascinating because them being all robotic science and s/o is master of raw organic power. Imagine s/o use the Avatar State to protect them from an enemy and the bots where like 👀🧍🏻‍♀️humans can do thattt??!!!
I have seen it, though it's been a while. Absolutely great show though, now I kinda wanna watch it again. I picked crush, so maybe they don't know the reader super well yet and the powers come as a surprise. I didn’t do Megatron because I’m super tired and just wanted to post something, since I feel like it’s been forever since my last post. I also apologize if this is nonsense, I'm running on very little sleep today
~Optimus Prime~
•The avatar has always had some kind of conflict to solve, and after you met the bots, you strongly felt that maybe the war between autobots and decepticons was the conflict you could help solve
•You’re a bit of a government secret as well, and since it’s easier to keep an eye on people when they’re in the same place, you kind of ended up bunking with the autobots
•You train every day, but in secret, because you’ve been told to not reveal your powers to anyone unless lives are at stake
•So you figured the giant alien robots didn’t need to know either
•You took a liking to Optimus, feeling a sort of kinship with him because you felt like he carried a burden similar to yours, you’re the avatar and he’s a Prime
•He of course doesn't know about your status or your powers, but he does see you seem to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders
•When you and Optimus get ambushed one day when you’re coming back from town after running some errands you have to defend yourself and him
•You go into the avatar state, because you feel like your life is in danger and you also don’t want Optimus to get hurt either
•Afterwards, when the vehicons are beaten back and you come out of the avatar state, you’d pretty low on energy and just ask Optimus to take you back to the base so you can rest
•He of course asks you about what just happened, but only after a while when you don’t bring it up on your own
•Optimus honestly thought it was quite magnificent, the raw power and energy he felt coming of you was a bit terrifying to be honest
•He had never seen anything like it before, and when you talked about it, he felt like his processor got overloaded with information, because you just started talking and didn’t stop
•It’s such a relief to get to talk about it with someone, especially with someone who understands the responsibility you have
•Optimus also gets to talk about his responsibilities as a Prime, and it’s honestly so freeing for him
•You bond over your shared problems and responsibilities, and talk for hours and hours
~Dreadwing~
•After you saved Dreadwing from Ultra Magnus, and came out the avatar state, Dreadwing is just looking at you like “What in the name of Primus was that?”
•You have to explain yourself, and Dreadwing is very interested in learning more about you and your powers
•He decides right there and then that if he wants to keep you safe from Megatron, your abilities can never be made known
•You tell him you escaped from a government holding facility before you met the cons, and at first you’d stayed with them because it made you feel like the army wouldn’t come anywhere near them and wouldn’t try to recapture you
•Dreadwing was of course interested in why you were in a holding facility in the first place, but he refrained from asking, since you didn’t really seem like you wanted to talk about it
•He was more interested in your powers anyway, like what exactly could you do?
•Dreadwing is mostly interested in these things because he wants to ascertain how well you’d be able to protect yourself if you needed to
•Of course he had seen you could handle yourself quite well, but that was against only one opponent
•Dreadwing promise he would not reveal your secret to anyone, but he also made you promise you would never use it in the presence of the other decepticons, unless it was a life or death situation for you
•He doesn’t much care for the other decepticons, and showing any of them your powers would no doubt lead to them trying to exploit you, especially Megatron and Starscream
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poppy-purpura · 4 months
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How! Is! Your! Artstyle! So adorable and! PRECIOUS!!
Also, hi, big fan of your art pieces, mostly in the COTL fandom. Are there any of the AUs you're still interested in drawing? How does the COTL Marriage one goes and ends? Also how did the Lamb and Narinder even get married when one is bound in the in-between Afterlife?
Have a good month! Sleep early, drink water regularly.
Ohh Thank you so much for kindness! :) Hello!
Well, I love my AUs, but I have no so much ideas to draw, also the lack of needed skills exists. I feel very unsure to draw anthro and such things :") Also it is really hard to draw something for myself. The truth is, I'm not a fan of myself...
Are you talking about fairy tale AU?
The situation there was like this: bishops imprisoned Narinder in his Purgatory and drained all the ichor from him, but, to tell the truth, they did not want such a fate for him. Shamura offered a deal according to which Narinder would be released if he married someone and through a bloody ritual transferred half of his divinity to someone else (he stubbornly refused for a long time, but eventually agreed to it, because it was exhausting to exist forever in nowhere).
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Bishops then planned to kill his "bride" if she did not die herself due to gaining "divinity", and allow Narinder to live a mortal life in an immortal body, being sure that he would not threaten their position. They chose a young sheep for him, the most harmless creature he had often preferred as maids and prays before.
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They got married and started living together. Mara (sheep name) became the owner of the crown. Narinder was not thrilled, but he helped his young wife and one day revealed his past and his thoughts to her. She agreed to help him regain his territories, now divided between local forces. And the whole story was supposed to tell that Mara learns to use the power of the crown, conducting witch rituals and learning how to cook potions and curses, and Narinder is forced to fight (he is bad at this he knows more about rituals and dances what a looser). They literally robbed someone's barn and use a scythe and sickle as weapons. Later, they will be able to recapture Narinder's castle, and their feelings for each other will become something more than friendship. In the process, Mara gets to know bishops and helps solve their problems in order to get the key to the doors to Purgatory, where Narinder's kittens are left. Happy end I guess.
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Sworn to Devotion: Chapter 2 - Part 2
>>Tie-breaker winner: HOBBIT
>> April decides to take the dirt path.
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(Art by @lovelyladylavie)
April points to her right. “Let’s take the path. Maybe it’ll take us back to the main road?” 
Donatello hums as he brings a hand up to his chin. “Potentially, though it could lead us into trouble with your attempted kidnappers. Are you sure?”
April pauses, considering the potential problem he raised, then shrugs. “I don’t want either of us breakin’ a leg tryin’ to go off-road. Besides–” she knocks his chest with the back of her hand “–I’m confident you’ll protect me.” 
She thinks she sees the barest hint of a blush on his cheeks, partially hidden by the purple mask he’s wearing on his face. But she blinks and it’s gone.
Did April imagine it?
The softshell clears his throat. “Well, let’s get moving. We’re losing precious daylight.”
Together they set out on the rough dirt path. Donatello leads the way down the inclined path, his footsteps light on the dirt and gravel below him. April follows behind him, though her steps sound much heavier, the gravel crunching under her heel as she kicks up dust. The shoes she stole from the boxes in the cave are too big for her, but there’s no way she’s wearing her high heels.
Besides, they weren’t in her favorite color anyway. 
They’re quiet as they descend down the mountain. Almost too quiet. April opens and closes her mouth multiple times, trying to find some topic to talk about. But… she’s not sure what to talk to him about. She wants to ask him about what happened earlier. Did she embarrass him? Does he not like being touched? But she feels too awkward to broach the question.
She’s also not sure if it’s the best time to ask him about his inventions. His brows furrowed and his lips are straight, and she doesn’t want to distract him from doing his duty of protecting her.
So April decides to just keep her mouth shut and observe the scenery as they walk through the forest.
They’re making good progress, with April humming quietly to herself while Donatello’s completely silent except for the soft clinking of his armor. At least an hour passes before Donatello suddenly stops in his tracks, and she almost runs into his shoulder.
“Did you hear that?”
April regains her balance and looks around. “Um, no?”
They stand completely still, Donatello holding his bō in a defensive position as his eyes darting around. He suddenly jerks his head forward, looking down the winding path. April extends her head forward, eyes squinting and ears straining to identify whatever has Donatello’s attention. 
“Someone’s coming!” He whispers urgently. “Quick! Off the road. We need to hide.”
Before April can object, she’s being pulled off the path. Her guard’s hustling into the forest and away from the path, fallen leaves getting kicked up into the air. He skids to a stop right before a five-foot drop, the edge surrounded by twisting roots of nearby trees and large boulders. 
He drops down and turns to her, offering her his hand. “Princess, take my hand! Hurry! I don’t want us to be spotted.” 
April furrows her brow. “Why are you hiding? If it’s those ninja dudes you can take them.”
Donatello shakes his head. “I don’t know if it’s them, or how many of them there could be. I cannot risk them injuring or recapturing you. Please! Just take my hand!”
She grumbles but reluctantly takes his hand, letting him help her hide. It doesn’t escape her as she joins him that his hands are so much bigger than hers—her hand is practically engulfed by his, and she can’t help but blush. He guides her to sit down, and she squeaks as he pulls her close to his chest so they’re both out of view of the path. 
For a few seconds all April can focus on is just how strong he is. Well, she knew he had to be strong and capable, as he had no problem saving her earlier. But to feel his gentle but firm grip around her sent a warm flush across her cheeks and chest. If it weren’t for the armor, she bets should would be able to feel his muscles underneath his clothes.
… why is she thinking about this?
April doesn’t have time to ponder over her thoughts as the thunderous noise of what sounds like a whole platoon of people catches her attention. While she can’t see them, she guesses that they’re running up up the path.
Donatello pulls her closer. 
“Hurry up!” A loud commanding voice barks. “The princess might be still in our old base!”
The thunderous footfall continues as they travel up the path, away from their hiding spot and toward the cave. However, as the group gets farther and farther away, it becomes apparent that there are some stragglers.
“Dude, I ain’t meant for running,” one of the stragglers gasps, “Why do they need all of us to find the princess again?”
“I dunno, man,” another whines, “All I know is I need a break.”
The two keep grumbling and whining while Donatello and April remain hidden. However, it quickly becomes apparent that the two stragglers are not moving. They can’t stay here forever or they will be discovered.
April…
>> Picks up a rock and suggests they throw it. >> Unsheathes her dagger and makes stabbing motions toward the stragglers. >> Points forward and suggests they sneak away, deeper into the forest.
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Livin' a Lie
Summary: Dean thinks he’s doing the right thing, believes it’s for the best. Still, he struggles to let go, even when he overhears that you’ve moved on with someone new.
Pairing: Dean x Fem!Reader
Warnings: 18+ Angst; Some fluff; Dean being Dean; Language; Mentions of smut; Canon divergence.
Betas: @princessmisery666 and @wayward-and-worn
Word Count: 2,318
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Pulling out of Jody’s hug, Dean’s eyes scan the room.
“She’s not coming,” Jody says, giving him a sympathetic smile.
“I wasn’t-” The mom look she gives him cuts him off. She knows. “Yeah, okay. Whatever.”
The monthly get-togethers had started a while back at Jody’s insistence. He and Sam hadn’t been able to make it last month, and he was hoping… Well, he doesn’t know what he was hoping for, not sure if the flood of emotion is unmitigated relief or agonizing disappointment.
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“How are you?”
“Good. I’m good,” he lies. He’s so far from good he doesn’t even know how to explain it. “You?”
Jody lets the lie slide this time. “The girls haven’t killed each other yet, and no one is pregnant. So, I’m taking the win.” Patting him on the arm, she steps around him to hug Sam. 
“Who’s manning the grill?” It’s a safe enough subject. Or so he thought.
“Garth.” Jody chuckles.
“Oh, hell no! I like some pink, but I don’t want my meat still mooing.” He takes off in the direction of the backyard to save their meal.
A couple of hours later, everyone sated with good food and the alcohol of their choice for those old enough; the group lounges around the fire pit, making s'mores, sharing stories, and enjoying each other’s company.
Dean excuses himself to take a leak. Returning from the bathroom, he heads toward the kitchen to sneak another slice of pie but stops short upon hearing Alex.
“Dean looks hap- well… like he’s doing okay. You think it’s just a cover?”
“Hard to tell. He went home with some waitress a couple of weeks back.” Sam overshares, and Dean can visualize the disapproving bitch face and condescending roll of his eyes. 
“Really?” Donna tosses out. “He back to his old habits? Or, ah y’ know, just trying to drown his sorrows ‘cause he still loves her?”
Of course, I still love her! Do they honestly think I could ever stop?  
“Honestly, I don’t think he ever stopped. He probably loves her more than ever. Even if he refuses to talk about it.”
That’s because it’s none of your goddamn business, little brother. Sharing my feelings like we’re in some chick flick ain’t gonna change anything.
There is no way in hell he will ever tell Sam that all he did was drop the waitress off at her home—walked her to the door, waited until she was safely inside, then left. Instead of going back to the motel to put up with more of Sam’s whiny nagging, he’d parked on an old dirt track and spent the night in Baby, dreaming about her, trying to recapture even the tiniest scrap of happiness. 
“Have you talked to her?” Sam asks.
Oh shit, what if it gets back to her about the waitress?
He hadn’t given any thought to it becoming a rumor that might make its way back to her. 
Sam and his stupid big mouth. 
Flirting with that woman had been a means to an end, an old habit resurfacing to disguise his misery and to stop Sam’s perpetual insistence to call and make things right or let go and move on.
Dean refuses to call. The threat is even bigger than before. There’s no moving on, either. The memories that haunt him are no longer of his time in the pit but of the hell of losing her. Every time he closes his eyes, she’s there—the warmth of her body, her sweet scent, the whisper of her voice, the taste of her lips. All of it was a reminder of what a thickheaded fool he was to push her away... to hurt her the way he did. 
“Yeah. She’s moving next week. Cooper asked her to-”
Throat closing around a lump of guilt and pain, he stumbles forward—guilt for treating her the way he did and pain for the finality of knowing that he will never be able to call her ‘mine’ again.
He needs air, the open road.
Striding toward the front door, he hollers over his shoulder to no one in particular that he’ll be back later. Not waiting for a response, he’s outside and backing out of the driveway in a matter of seconds, speeding toward the clearing by the lake a few miles away. The sound of Baby’s engine helps to ease muscles held tight with tension and soothe the anger raging in his soul.
She’d shared what she had dubbed Stargazer’s Loch with him a few years back. He’d shown up at Jody’s after a bad hunt, and she’d been there recovering from a hunting injury of her own. She’d brought him out here, told him it was her sanctuary, a place of peace and inspiration. It was the night he’d admitted to himself that he was falling in love with her.  
They’d run into each other several times before, worked a few cases together, and had fun hanging out, playing darts, or hustling drunk locals out of their hard-earned cash at pool, but he’d never ‘gone for it’ with her. Something about her was different. He felt different around her. He had never wanted her to be just another notch on his bedpost. It had taken him a while, but at this lake, is where he first told her he was in love with her. 
Not until he’s lying on the hood, back against the windshield and staring at the stars, does he let his mind wander and the tears fall. The months had dragged on, but with years of experience under his belt, he shoved down the regret and loneliness, locking it away with all the other crap. He can put on a good show for others with a smile plastered on his face and a nonchalant attitude. Yet, there are still times, usually when he is relaxed, guard down, like tonight, they rise to the surface like a tidal wave.
He’d heard things about her in passing from other hunters—She looked happy. Saw her in Chicago outside a museum, dressed for some fancy event… Colorado… New York… California—but nothing about another guy. She’s obviously traveling a lot, but no one seems to know what she’s doing. He knows she’s not hunting, though. Anyone who had spoken with her said she wouldn’t assist with anything beyond what she knew of the lore. Said that she’d told them, ‘I’m not a hunter.’ His harsh accusation echoed back to him.
How could he have said that to her? She was a great hunter—an exquisite balance of book and street smarts, keen instinct, skill, and heart. He’s glad she’s not hunting, though. She’s safer and seemingly happier. It’s what he wanted for her. She’s better off without him. He just wishes his heart had gotten the message.
Absentmindedly reaching for a hand that’s no longer there, finding only cold metal, his chest seizes, and he chokes on a sob. Fuck, he misses her. Of all the idiotic things he’s done over the years, forcing her away ranks the highest. He wishes he could tell her that it was all a lie. He figures she knows. He simply had given her no choice. 
Folding his hands on his stomach, he does nothing to curb the surge of tears streaming from his eyes. There’s no reason to repair the dam with no one around to suffer the flood. So he lets the groundswell of memories wash over him.
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“The porch?” Delicate fingers traced along his temple, curling behind his ear, thumb strumming over his cheekbone.
“Wrap-around,” a quick peck to her palm, “a porch swing facing a lake so we can watch the thunderstorms in the spring and the leaves change in the fall. Rocking chairs for when we get old.”
She laughed. “You? Sitting in a rocking chair? Doing nothing? I don’t care how old you are. I don’t buy it.”
“As long as you’re next to me, I can do anything.” 
It had become a post-bad hunt ritual. They would lie in bed, the back of the Impala, or, weather permitting, beneath the stars, usually naked but always wrapped in each other’s arms, and talk about where they would live, the home he would build for her when they got out. A way to escape the current reality of their life. The thin thread of hope they clung to while holding tight to each other.
“In the mountains, away from everyone. In the winter, we’ll hole up and hibernate like bears. In the summer, we’ll go skinny dipping in the lake.”
Soft lips, breath moist and hot against his ear. “With no one else around, we could stay naked all the time.”
“I like how you think.” He’d taken her then, on top of the old fleece in the middle of a field lit only by firefly glow and a sky pin holed by stars. Gentle and slow, teasing out moans and getting drunk on every whimper and sigh she surrendered to him.
He’d had the perfect property in mind, Rufus’ old safe house in Montana. They could fix it-it up exactly how they wanted. He’d never mentioned it, though, before everything fell apart. He’d wanted to surprise her, check into actually purchasing it, and start renovations.
Hell, he’d even fantasized about proposing, down on one knee in front of the refurbished home when he told her to remove the blindfold. But with each new hunt, the threat grew bigger and badder, the burden to save innocent lives grew exponentially, and the struggle to keep those he cared about safe and alive became an almost impossible endeavor. So he pushed—shoved—her out of his life and away from danger.
“I want you to leave.”
“Fine. I’ll sleep in my old room tonight.”
“No. I want you to pack your things and get out of the bunker. I’m tired of having to rescue you. I’ve got enough on my plate without having to try and keep you from getting yourself killed all the time.”
“Rescue me?! You didn’t rescue me. I killed that bitch before you even got to me. You’re being an asshole! How-”  She’d cut herself off, tilted her head, and huffed, “huh.”  Eyes narrowed, she’d clicked her tongue. “I get it. I know what you’re doing, and I’m not leaving. You’re scared. Afraid that something will happen to me. You can’t make me hate you.”
“Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea what I can make you do. Hate me or not, it doesn’t matter,” he shrugged, “I don’t want you here. You’re not a hunter. You’re a liability.”
The forceful harshness he put behind the words, the way he had sarcastically called her sweetheart, drawing himself up to tower over her, had made her stumble in shock, gripping the desk for support as she bumped into it.
He’ll never be able to dislodge the memory of utter devastation drenched in sorrow—exhale of disbelief, trembling bottom lip, the twitch of her eye as tears gathered on her lashes—right before it was all hidden behind a stoic mask. Once she had steeled herself against his acerbity, she didn’t plead or yell, didn’t try to change his mind with honey-drenched words or soft touches. No harsh discourse left her lips. 
The calm acceptance she’d radiated had been unexpected, and a shiver caressed his spine. He’d felt relief and disappointment within the same heartbeat. He’d wanted her to be angry, curse the day she met him and walk out to never look back, but she hadn’t.
After the initial pause, he’d understood what she was doing. She had always tried to ease his burdens whenever possible, and even then, when her heart was most likely as broken and battered as his, she had still wanted to make it less difficult for him. It hadn’t lessened any of the pain.
“I love you.” 
That was it. Nothing else. Stared him dead in the eye, standing tall and creating an imposing figure of her own. Three words, filled with so much promise and hope, nearly broke his resolve.
Instead, he spat, “Yeah, well, sucks to be you,” and walked out of the room without a backward glance.
Two steps into the hallway, the sensation of his heart being ripped from his chest made him stumble and press a hand against the cold tile to stay upright. Unlike in hell, there was a finality to it. There would be no rejuvenation. He wouldn’t wake up the following day and be whole again; he’d be left with a void in his chest for the rest of his days.
It nearly had him turning around to fall on his knees in front of her, beg for forgiveness, and plead with her never to leave him.
He reminded himself why he was doing this. He couldn’t keep her safe. The target on her back would only continue to grow the longer she stayed with him. The next step was painful, forced, but with each subsequent footfall, his pace quickened until he sprinted through the garage and spun Baby’s tires as he hauled ass away from the bunker… from her… from the self-inflicted misery.
Even though he’d driven for hours, returning just before sunrise, he’d yearned to find her still there, waiting—her anger, her stubbornness, her love, refusing to let her leave. He’d suffer anything she threw at him, every angry word, every slap, kick, or punch hurled, just to see her.
As soon as the Impala’s front tires had hit the concrete, brutal misery encompassed him. The space where she’d kept her truck was empty, as hollow as his chest. 
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He’d sat in the car for a long time cycling through the stages of grief, never reaching the final one. He has to accept it now, though, right? She’s moving in with some guy. A guy that’s not him.
He waited too long. Too afraid, too ashamed to contact her.
Part Two
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Love Me Some Pie tag list:
@akshi8278 // @asgoodasdancingqueen // @calaofnoldor // @compresshischest09 // @deans-baby-momma // @deaneverafter // @deans-spinster-witch // @deanwanddamons // @flamencodiva // @idreamofplaid // @jerkbitchidjitassbutt // @justagirlinafandomworld // @justrealizedimmascifygurl // @ladysparkles78 // @lyarr24 // @michellethetvaddict // @mrswhozeewhatsis // @mvdeanw // @princessmisery666 // @shawnie74 // @thinkinghardhardlythinking // @thoughts-and-funnies // @waynes-multiverse // @wayward-and-worn // @waywardbaby // @weepingwillowphoenix
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whumpsoda · 3 months
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i have the image of swap nevan trying to escape pre vampire turning and almost doing so only for malak’s hulking figure to appear behind him. malak simply picks him up and emphasizes his aura as he carries nevan home—not even punishing him per say, just whispering sympathies like “i know it’s scary but you can’t be bad like that.” and nevan eventually stops thrashing and melts into his arms like a child being carried to bed
i think the punishment would just be like,,,nevan remains more entranced and suggestible and easily entertained than he was before—which he vaguely does not like but cant vocalize it. plus, all he can really focus on is how nicely malak treats him and how nevan wants to be touching him all the time. like a cat lol
WOHEO Masterlist
So um. I’m procrastinating and wrote this
cw: escape attempt, recapture, vampire whumper, conditioning/brainwashing
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He was catching his breath. 
He was only catching his breath.
Hand clutched to a tree, heaving and desperately gulping down juicy spit Nevan gripped his screaming lungs. He just needed to catch his breath, then he could continue. He had to continue.
But if that was all he was doing, why was his head flying away from him, twisting distant and cloudy? Why was his balance weakening, having to grip bark with both palms and all ten fingers? It felt almost like… 
Like…
Nevan was jerked backwards, hefty arms pulling him into a suffocating embrace of which he dangled inside of. His breath hitched in surprise, and the world around him continued spinning. 
He knew exactly who the arms belonged to.
“Hey.” Malak chastised as he feebly struggled, Nevan’s mind quickly fogging with the vampire’s strong aura. “You… bad boy.” He said, soft and light like his voice always was, making the words sound strange.
“Get-! Let me go! Let me go!” Nevan screeched, still able to fight back verbally if not physically. Malak ignored him, turning around and already stepping back in the direction of the manor and out of the woods. “Stop-! Stop it! Stop it, stop it, stop it!”
Malak only sighed into his ear, an action that elicited a flutter of the human’s lashes. “Shhh… calm down, please.” He soothed, attempting with one still occupied hand to rub Nevan’s belly. “You’re alright, I’ve got you. I know you’re scared.”
He wasn’t alright! If he was alright Nevan would be back with his family, not in the arms of a blood sucking monster. And if he really cared about Nevan’s fear, he’d let him go. Of course, he’d already learned Malak didn’t give two shits by then, only pretending he did.
With each following step Malak continued his pacifying mumbles. “Just relax, okay? Quiet your mind for me. We’ll be back home in just a moment.” Nevan groaned, all he really could do with his head flipped into fluffy, incoherent cotton. “Look, I’m telling you, I know you’re scared. I understand. I’ve been through the same, but you just can’t be bad like that. Please.”
As if Nevan was going to listen. 
“I’m going to have to punish you, y’know.” Punish? Oh hell no. “I can’t really just um, let this go. Okay?”
He would’ve fought back if he could. He really would’ve! Unfortunately, Nevan’s muscles and mind had all been reduced to a pool of mush in their place, rendering them useless for such a feat.
“It won’t be too bad. I promise.”
Nevan faintly grumbled. As if.
They soon made it back to the abode, a place that would’ve appeared cozy of not for the circumstances of vampiric type. Malak lifted him over the couch, plopping Nevan’s limp body right in front of it on the fuzzy, plush rug.
He hated that feeling. Almost like a rag doll, unable to do anything for himself with his mind and body restrained by hypnotic force. He loathed it. Malak knew that.
Malak sat right over him on a couch cushion, leaning over and placing his hand to the human’s hair. He would’ve fought back if he could. Maybe bit off some fingers.
Well… maybe he would’ve… if it didn’t feel so good.
“I have to keep you like this for, um, a bit. I hope it’s not too bad.” Sure he did. “I’ll make it pleasant, I swear.”
Slow fingers gradually snuck their way into Nevan’s dark locks, sifting through soft strands and scratching gently at his scalp. Pleasant, blissful sensations crawled through the streams of his body like worms, eliciting a shiver of pleasure from Nevan. He couldn’t help but lean into it in his confused state.
Malak didn’t hesitate to grab the chance to feed more reassurances to his susceptible brain. “You’re safe here. I’m never going to hurt you. I would never, Nevan.”
Maybe… maybe he was telling the truth. Nevan considered it, even for just a second.
“I want you to be happy here. With me. I’ll get you anything you want. I just… I need you. I need food. You understand don’t you?”
For some reason, Nevan nodded along. A new feeling stirred inside him almost like pity. As if he felt bad for the creature.
“I love you to, y’know. I do. I love company. It gets kind of lonely by myself.”
Nevan’s brows furrowed, expression contorting in puzzlement. He loved him? No, Genevieve loves him. Not the vampire. Malak barely even knows him! But Gen does. Genevieve loves him a lot, and he loves Genevieve. But-
But…
“Master loves you more, Nevan. The most.”
Oh. Nevan looked up, meeting his master’s deep eyes and soft smile. Had he said that out loud?
“Really. You’re going to be all taken care of here. Trust me. You’ll love it.” Malak whispered, cupping Nevan’s chin. He nuzzled his face into the vampire’s large palm. Like a kitten.
Maybe he would love it. That sounded nice, especially to his putty-like mind. He could be good for his new master.
———————————————————————
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avvail-whumps · 6 months
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Can we get an alternate ending where Leo tells the truth and Sharpe is determined to get Roy punished whereas Roy is already planning how to hurt Leo more
‘guns for hire’ — alternative ending (money solves everything)
guns for hire masterlist
cw: past captivity, past torture, rescue, slight recovery whump, whumpee referred to as “kid” but he’s an adult, discussions of dub-con, stockholme syndrome, minor blood, violence, manhandling, recapture, kidnapping, implied non-con at the end (nothing explicit)
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Leo didn’t actually remember nodding his head.
It was like he had been dreaming; everything had been floating like his head was flying off his shoulders, all the words they spoke like muffles in his ears.
Sharpe had come round the desk, his hands heavy on his shoulders and grounding him back into reality. He hadn’t even realised that there were tears streaming down his cheeks until Summers had appeared by his other side with a box of tissues.
“It’s okay, Leo,” she whispered softly, and there was relief in her eyes. Relief that Leo wasn’t sure he was feeling right now. “Can I wipe your face? Is that okay?”
He felt himself nod his head that time. That was a miracle in itself. Her gentle hands wiped the tears from his face with a soft tissue, a warm touch that didn’t make him feel as comforted as Roy’s. His throat closed up in terror. What had he done? He’d disobeyed his orders and he’d told them.
Why? Why had Leo done that?
“But I love him,” Leo sobbed, and Summer paused for a second, a grimace on her face.
“It’s not love, Leo,” she answered gently, as if she was treading on thin ice or that he was made of glass and could break any minute. His shaking hands tried to scrub the tears away.
“He’s going to be so mad at me.”
The words had become clogged in his throat, and Sharpe squeezed his shoulders again, trying not to let him spiral. Leo wasn’t sure if it was working or not, because he could just imagine Roy in the same building as him, blissfully unaware of the fact that he’d just destroyed any chance of theirs to be together.
Because that was what they both wanted.
“Roy doesn’t love you.”
They both wanted it.
“What you’re feeling may seem like love, but it’s not real.”
He was so sure of that.
Summers set the box of tissues down on the table, easing him out of his relentless thoughts. His puffy eyes met her own gaze, pooling with deep sympathy. Sympathy? Why sympathy?
“Roy isn’t going to hurt you again, kid,” Sharpe cut in, drawing his attention away from the female detective with a soft blink. “You’re gonna spend some time in Witness Protection, alright? He won’t be able to touch you again. You, or any of the others.”
His back suddenly spurred with this stinging pain, reminding him of the whip tearing his muscles apart, the blinding agony that he’d succumbed to. The person who whipped him had a blurry face, but just for a second, he saw Roy’s eyes.
But he was also kind. He cooked with him - he was bad at things and he laughed when he would. He didn’t want to let that go. It was all he ever wanted.
He heard Sharpe turn to Summers, his voice quiet. “I want him at the hospital and I want him properly fed and comfortable. I want a psyciatrist called for an evaluation before they want him in court to testify.”
“Psychiatrist?” Leo croaked, his heart thundering. Sharpe offered a small smile.
“Yeah, kid,” he nodded. “You’ve been through a lot. You’ll get the help you need.”
The two kind detectives had stayed by his side until his tears stopped, and Leo was able to exit the stuffy room in order to see his father. It had been an amazing thing, to feel his dad hug him so tightly for the first time, and he hadn’t even wanted to let go. Leo’s head had remained plastered to his father’s shoulder during the journey to hospital, and after riding in silence, Leo had dissolved into sobs once again.
His father held him tightly, so tightly, but it wasn’t tight enough to fill that hollow void that was tearing him apart. His father’s arms embraced him, cupping the back of his head and tucking him under his chin, in a way that any child would want to be held.
Once his time at the hospital had passed, his mind only consumed with thoughts of Roy, he’d sat through his first session with a psychiatrist. It was a tall, blond woman - she seemed nice, but Leo couldn’t focus on that when all he could think was how much he wanted to leave.
“Did you have a sexual relationship with Mr Gatlin, Leo?” She had asked gently, like the words hadn’t made his stomach twist with dread. His eyes were focused on the glass table in front of them, like maybe if he stared at it for long enough, he would see Roy’s face in the reflection instead of the psychiatrist.
Leo’s foot tapped anxiously. “Yes.”
He’d wanted to lie, but what was the point? It felt like she could see right through him. The sessions were one of the most uncomfortable things he had ever had to experience. The anxiousness, the embarrassment, the idea of spilling his darkest secrets and thoughts to a complete stranger in the lonesome room.
He imagined what it would be like if Roy was here, holding his hand to help him get through it.
“But why would he have sex with me if he didn’t love me?” Leo softly breathed towards the end of the session, his eyes gleaming with pain. He rubbed his thumb against the scars on his wrist, refusing to meet her eyes. They were too sharp, too imposing, like she could read every thought in his little head.
“You experienced life changing traumas during your captivity, Leo,” the psychiatrist offered. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Mr Gatlin expressed qualities your mind was tricked into thinking was genuine kindness. He took advantage of your vulnerability. Your need for that physical affection.”
Her lips curved slightly.
“Have you always believed that sex is a romantic gesture?”
Leo nodded his head slowly. “Why would someone do that if they didn’t love them? Why would they bother?”
“A lot of people separate their sexual needs from their romantic ones. It’s a blurry line, but there is a line, Leo.”
“He told me he loved me,” he sniffled, pressing his hands into his face. He could feel himself shaking. “He, He said that he...”
“Mr Gatlin kidnapped and tortured you,” she softly spoke, slowly pushing the box of tissues closer towards him. She settled back in her chair with a sigh. “Do you really think someone like that is capable of truly loving you?”
Leo let out a quiet sob. Everyone was telling him that he didn’t love him - that these feelings were born out of necessity and trauma, that his isolated childhood was playing a part in his psyche. He ran his fingers through his hair.
“How frequently did you and Mr Gatlin have sex, Leo?”
He lifted his head, gently wiping away the tears. His heart squeezed a little. “Um, I suppose...often.”
“How long had this relationship been formed before you were separated?”
“I think...” He swallowed uneasily. “Not that long. I can’t really remember.”
The psychiatrist nodded her head. She was always incredibly patient with him, and that made it all the more easier. He frequently visited her during the court sessions, which he found himself avoiding, only until the day he had to testify.
He had kept his eyes downcast, despite seeing the man—he...loved? Thought he loved?—seated in his peripheral. He’d recited everything that had happened, answered the questions, and left. Sharpe had given him a lift, though it wasn’t easy to hear his and Summers conversation while he stared out of the window.
“We’ll win this case,” Summers had said, and yet Sharpe had let out a sharp tut.
“Yeah, that’s if his uncle doesn’t have the judge or the even damn jury in his backpocket.”
“Not with the kid in the car.”
Sharpe had always kept in touch over the months. Asked him how he was doing, how he felt about the psychiatrist – he came round for dinner sometimes, and his father seemed more than happy to cook. Leo sometimes found himself smiling and laughing along with them, but other times, he would be picking at his food with only one person on his mind.
Later, Roy was found guilty.
His father had hugged him and sobbed hysterically, thanking everybody out there and keeping him so close. Leo had cried too, but not for the same reason.
The mercenary was never truly off his mind. Even if it was easier to go about his day without being consumed by him every waking hour, he was still there. Somewhere.
Whispering sweet nothings in his ear.
Holding him close.
Having sex with him and telling him he loved him at the same time.
Leo was curled up in bed, late at night, when he heard his father’s phone ring. He hadn’t been able to sleep well, and carefully listened into the muffled conversation from his comfortable position.
“Oh, Detective,” his father greeted, his voice melting into warmth and excitement. Leo’s ears perked up. He wondered why he was calling so late at night. “Are you—?”
His father was abruptly cut off. Faintly, during the silence, Leo’s blood spiked with anticipation.
“Bail—?” His father all but cried, and he could sense the crushing despair in his voice. “But it was so high!”
Leo’s heart rate began to pick up. Bail? They could only be talking about Roy. The bail had been expensive, so expensive it would have been impossible for someone, even of the uncle’s stature, to pay it off. How? How so quickly?
Leo heard a thundering crashing noise, and suddenly, he was leaping out of bed in fear. He rushed out of his room and into the corridor, the sight of his father’s limp body sprawled along the floor making him almost scream.
“Dad!” He called out, collapsing to his knees beside him in horror to find blood pooling around his head. Tears stabbed his eyes. “No, no, no, no, please.”
His fingers gripped his shirt desperately, the panicked thoughts going haywire in his mind. He could feel the static consuming his hearing, making it all fuzzy and incomprehensible as he squeezed his eyes shut, all those horrible memories crashing into him.
“He’s not dead,” came a firm voice, and Leo’s head snapped up to meet the smiling face of Roy. It was a cold smile. “Still breathing.”
The secretary made a dash, but as always, as it had been since day one, Roy was quicker.
Fingers tightened in his hair and slammed his face into the wall, a gutteral groan tearing from his throat when stars erupted in his vision. The gloved hand kept him there, hearing a sharp sigh from Roy.
“I’m so fucking disappointed, lion.”
The tears streamed down his face. It felt like his knees were going to give out on him.
“The worst part, is that I’m absolutely livid, too,” he hissed, and God, Leo had never heard anger dripping off Roy’s words like this. The worst part, was that they both knew he was holding himself back.
“I really thought you were smart,” he hummed, pressing his face harder into the wall. Leo let out a pained sob, his breathing picking up. “I leave you alone for forty-eight hours, and they manage to get into that little head of yours.”
Roy jerks his head back, spinning him around so that he’s facing him. His knees can barely even support his own weight, staring at the face he’d failed to get out of his own head.
“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, choking on a breath. “I’m so, so sorry—”
“You’re sorry now?” Roy snapped, his lip curled into a snarl. “You’re a fucking mess. Look at you. This could have even easy, but you’ve only gone and made this way harder than it has to be.”
The mercenary sighed sharply, his eyes flickering over to his father’s unmoving body. They softened, just a fraction.
“New names, new identity,” he hummed, tilting his head. “Shame. I like you as a blond.”
Leo sucked in a gasping breath. The grip on his hair was absolutely unrelenting, and he hadn’t eased up for even a second. He tried to open his mouth to speak, but the mercenary just gave him a violent shake, and it died on his tongue. An unspoken I love you, even after everything. Leo wondered if it was real or because he was scared.
“I’m so mad,” he reiterated, his jaw clenched as those fiery eyes bore into his own. “I could break both your legs and make you crawl after me. But you know what? I’m not going to do that. I’m not going to hurt you, lion. I’m going to do something much, much worse.”
The hand violently pushed him down to his knees, and Leo sucked in a hyperventilating breath. He looked up in horror when Roy started to unbuckle his belt.
“My uncle’s waiting for us both in the car,” Roy told him sharply, and his stomach twisted in dread at the word ‘us’. Us. He desperately shook his head.
“Roy, please—”
A harsh slap shut him up, and the hand returned to his hair as he started working his zipper down.
“Like I said, he’s waiting for us,” he growled, his eyes narrowed into vicious slits. “So that mouth better work quickly and give me a different kind of apology.”
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frociaggine · 26 days
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Are proprioception drills real, and if so do you do them? What do you recommend on this, oh wise jock advisor? Love from the anon who you inspired to run a 10k. (Also, how do you run when it’s hot out. Will I need to become a morning person.)
“inspired to run a 10k” omg omg that's AMAZING!! go you. the first time I ran 10k in one go I felt like a superhero. I hope you feel amazing about it because you ARE amazing <333
proprioception: regrettably. proprioception drills WORK. they're good for improving overall athletic performance and injury prevention! stable ankles do so much for you! terrible news for me personally because I suck at anything involving balance, I hate looking stupid, and I strongly dislike doing the kind of "exercise" where you don't actually sweat and don't feel good right away. needless to say, proprioception is my enemy.
stuff that ""athletic people"" ""should"" be able to do, and you could start working on if you find it challenging: (it's me. I find it challenging). brush your teeth standing on one leg. stand on one leg with your eyes closed. one-legged bodyweight calf raises (one ankle doesn't touch the floor, the other foot is doing the raises; if you need balance hold with one finger to the wall or counter). You can do this stuff at any point during the day, and doing it ""helps build a habit"" (said between gritted teeth)
stuff that you can do at the gym, as part of a workout, or while stretching: some yoga balance poses (Tree Pose, Eagle Pose, Warrior 3, Half-Moon Pose). If you have access to one of those balance disks soft cushion things, try standing on it, or doing bodyweight squats on it etc. this is a very useful video I like with some balance drills (near the end, the first half is mobility) and I do those. very rarely. at the gym, while looking very ridiculous
there are cool more advanced drills for runners — leg bounds, backwards skips, but personally I'm hopeless at it and if you're a relative novice you're probably bad at it too. If you discover an incredible talent for ankle stability exercises and want to progress further, youtube has a lot of cool form videos about it (thank you college track coaches with small youtube channels!) and I also recommend r/running and r/sprinting.
summer runs: unfortunately, the only thing to do when it's hot out is to. start your run very early. I'm sorry, believe me, I understand your pain. I had a couple amazing years when I woke up before five AM consistently to run in the summer and the sight of the sky at dawn was breathtaking etc. I wish I could recapture that level of motivation because I currently don't have any, but unfortunately, you either become a morning person or you Suffer (on the bright side if you can train yourself to run during the day during summer, you WILL be faster in the autumn. but at what cost?)
another alternative is to go running at night BUT often it takes a lot for temperatures to go down, so you might end up starting a run at, like, 9:30 pm, and that gets very annoying after a while. I PROMISE that when you wake up early consistently (including on weekends!) it stops being hard. It takes a few weeks, but it stops being hard. But if you lose the habit you will have to suffer all over again trying to build it back <- me right now
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I was SO inspired by this post, I've been thinking about it literally all day. Elana belongs to @that-one-thespian!!
TWs: burning mention, knife mention, torture, kidnapping, self-sacrifice, recapture (sorta??)
Mariano hummed to himself as he shifted gears, feeling the rumble of his car's tires against the dirt road. His phone felt like it weighed an impossible amount in his pocket, just waiting for him to pull into the driveway to break the news to the team about what was happening. Elana wasn't going to be happy with him, but this was necessary.
Marito, come to the attached address. I want to talk. It's been too long. Luis
Mariano knew what was waiting for him 3.7 miles away. Luis had never been one for tricks, not really, but Mariano knew what a talk meant when he wasn't your ally. A blowtorch, and a table, and a knife were waiting. Not ropes. Not restraints. He didn't need those anymore.
It wouldn't be pleasant, but it would get Elana back alive and in one piece.
She would be okay. She would even be able to drive if needed. It was the best case scenario--especially since if the rest of the team got involved, more people would get hurt. Luis knew their phobias. He'd been merciful so far; Elana hadn't been tied beyond what was necessary to keep her in the old, rickety trailer. There were no cages yet, no blindfolds or muzzles or freezers or water basins.
Mariano would make sure it stayed that way.
He turned down the dirt road, the landscape growing ever more rural by the minute. No one would be around to help. That was for the best. When he finally screamed, he wouldn't have to worry about getting the police called.
Mariano eased his car into the driveway, the gravel crunching under the weight of his sedan, and put it into park. He pulled out his phone. He called Archer.
It went to voicemail.
"Hi, Archer." Mariano's voice was soft and sweet as he started talking. "You're not going to be happy with me, and I'm sorry. Luis caught Elana, and he wanted to make a deal. He just wants me for an hour or two in exchange for only roughing her up. I'm sending you the address, it'll take you guys about an hour and a half to get here, but there's a shortcut on exit 35 northbound if you're worried. I love you, and I promise I'll see you in a little bit."
The sound of the call ending felt like signing his own death certificate.
He was being dramatic. This wasn't anything that would kill him, though, Mariano knew that. Luis was a man of his word. Mariano had done this before, every time he walked into the training room. Luis just wanted to torture him.
There would be a blowtorch, a table, and a knife. Mariano could do this. He stepped out of his car and pocketed his phone again. He didn't bother locking his car as he walked up the wobbly steps to the front door and knocked.
Luis greeted him with a smile. Behind him in an armchair sat Elana, cuffed and bound and bruised, the fury in her expression melting into horror and understanding. "Ah, Marito!" Luis drew him into a hug that Mariano returned. He smelled like lighter fluid and pain, just how Mariano remembered. "So good of you to join us. Elana said you wouldn't make it, but I thought I still knew you."
Mariano laughed, easy as he stepped inside. "Yes, yes, you know me, Luis." He sent an apologetic smile towards Elana.
"Now," Luis said, easing the front door shut again and flipping the deadbolt. Elana started to struggle harder, muffled shouts ringing through the air. "Mariano, tell me: do you prefer your arms or your legs?"
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subastian-swallows · 1 year
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Dark Whispers, Light Vows
CHAPTER TWO: PAIN
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★ Chapter one
Chapter three ★
Pairing: Dark!Sebastian x AurorMC x AurorOminis - Love Triangle Fic
Words: 6.8k
Warnings: ANGST
Summary: “In a race against time, (Auror’s) Alice and Ominis must work together to recapture their former friend Sebastian, an escapee from Azkaban. But when Sebastian begins to use a mysterious new form of magic to haunt Alice’s dreams, she’s torn between bringing him to justice or helping him escape, risking everything in the process. Love, friendship, and the battle between light and dark intertwine as Alice must decide which path she will take.”  
A/N: Life kicked my butt, sorry for the wait, BUT SHE'S HERE AND SHE'S ANGSTY
“Nobody loves the light like the blind man.” ― Victor Hugo, Les Misérables
Listening to Ominis converse with the Minister—Faris, always felt strange. He always spoke as if politeness equated the same as respect and perhaps, that was why he was respected. Unlike Alice, who cared little for what others around her thought, Ominis always went out of his way to prove himself. When Alice had asked about it, perhaps feeling rather confused by the idea someone as special as Ominis had to do such a thing. She never expected that’s how she would’ve learnt about his family. They say, doing something in spite of others, would eventually lead you to hate it. But Ominis relished the fact that he had found something he loved, while also being able to rub it in their face—Alice perhaps, just loved the idea that he did it so casually, that it drove his family mad. 
Faris must have begun his lengthy speech, about why Sebastian must be stopped, due to Ominis naturally tensing up beside her. But Alice hadn’t truly been paying attention. No, instead she had been focused on the way his hair looked particularly thin and she wondered if he was stressed out. For some reason, Alice was unable to retain anything he said, her eyes locked onto his face to show she was present. And yet, his words sounded nothing like words, but more so, muffled noises—as if he was speaking to her underwater. She wondered if this was a way her mind allowed her to cope, she was there, but not really. Alice didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to track down Sebastian and she sure didn’t want to see him again. 
Because seeing him again would only hurt, that much was certain and she had gotten so good at pretending—she was better. 
“Alice? Are you still with us?” 
“I’m sorry?” Alice said, realising quickly that she hadn’t really succeeded at acting as if she had been listening. But when she sat up straighter and realised Faris was observing her more closely than before, she gave him a half-assed smile. “I might have missed that last part. Hard to focus on so much information, when no one has any leads. No one does, right?”
Ominis moved to lean away from her now, his chin resting gently against his hand as he attempted to hide the amusement spreading quickly across his face. But when Faris let out a defeated laugh, as if he knew better than to fight Alice, he shuffled in his chair and fiddled with his pen. “We were hoping you two would have an idea on where to start—”
“So you have nothing…nothing at all?” 
“What Alice means…is that we might have some ideas,” Ominis said, straightening again, only to pinch her knee gently. He would have loved to say her bluntness was due to the situation with Sebastian, but Alice never really treated Faris any differently from their other colleagues. It was something that should have gotten her in trouble—but for some reason, Faris simply let it be. “Have you had a team visit his cell block?” 
Faris smiled and clicked his pen, something he did often enough that Alice was tempted to throw it out of his office window. But instead, she just gently gripped the arms of her chair. “We have, but there was nothing of interest. No touch of magic—nothing, it’s like he simply vanished.” 
“Perhaps, they didn’t look hard enough?”
“What are you saying, Ominis? You think he left something behind?” Faris asked, clicking his pen again as he leant forward and this time Ominis’ hand took a firm grasp on Alice’s knee. He knew her too well and she tried to relax back into her chair, when his grip loosened slightly. “Why would he—”
“He must have left a clue…or something. The whole thrill of this, if that’s why he’s done it—was clearly the idea behind being chased.”  
Alice pushed away from the table at Ominis’ words now, the abrupt movement causing him to slip slightly as her chair scraped noisily against the floor. But she didn’t care, moving to stare out the window in a huff. “Perhaps, he just simply wished to leave that place? I mean, wouldn’t you?” 
“And perhaps, you’re just giving him too much credit, Alice?” Ominis said, straightening up in his chair, before he exhaled and stood up. Unlike Alice, Ominis had practised a lot harder when it came to pretending it wasn’t Sebastian they were after, though it sure wasn’t easy. “There has to be more to this?” 
“You and this stupid ‘credit’ talk? Ominis, you’re so focused on the anger you feel towards him—that you’re ignoring the fact…that he might just want peace?” 
Ominis crossed his arms against his chest, eyebrows furrowing as if Alice had said something ridiculous. And yet, perhaps a part of him agreed with her, though, he refused to allow it more space in his heart. That was his way of coping with the loss of a friend. “Regardless of what his reasons for escaping were, it’s clear we need to start at the beginning.” 
“You’re not suggesting we start at his cell, are you?” Alice asked, turning back from the window and stepping towards Ominis who was now tense and looking in her direction. Faris had stayed quiet this whole time, perhaps just to observe and so Alice ignored his presence and moved closer towards Ominis. “You want to visit Azkaban? You cannot be serious?” 
“It only makes sense, Alice. Besides, we might find something the others couldn’t.” 
Alice turned towards Faris, as if he would ever take her words over Ominis’. But his face seemed unchanged and when she rested herself against his desk, it was only then that he clicked his pen and stood up. “Ominis—makes a good point, Alice. What could look like pointless scribbles to us, might look and be something more to you.” 
“So let me get this straight, you’re not only asking me to track down an old friend, but also visit the place we threw him in as a child?” Alice asked, tensing her fingers against his desk and flicking Ominis a pain-filled look. He had now exhaled softly at her words and it was in moments such as this, that Alice realised just how differently they had processed everything. “I won’t go—that’s just…it’s off the table.” 
“You’re being unreasonable, Alice.” 
She scoffed and pushed away from Faris’ desk now and moved to stand beneath Ominis’ nose as he refused to acknowledge her. He wasn’t trying to make Alice upset but it was impossible to deny that her fear was going to make things more difficult and so he swallowed harshly and placed his hands against her shoulders. Ominis might not have been as open as Alice when it came to the pain that lingered due to Sebastian, but it was there and he understood her more than she knew. And it was hard trying to argue over something that even he didn’t want to do, but Ominis also knew Sebastian all too well and he was sure they were missing something. No matter how small. 
“You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to help—”
“Did I? Well that’s news to me, Ominis…in fact, if I knew that it meant I would have to step foot in Azkaban, I wouldn’t have agreed,” Alice said, shrugging off his hands and when his eyebrows furrowed in response, she simply rolled her eyes and turned to face Faris. “You can call me unreasonable all you like, but I’m not doing it.” 
Ominis sat back down now and Alice welcomed the sudden silence from him. Unlike with Faris, who had begun to click his pen again while looking over the scene unfolding in front of him and yet, it’s only after Alice glanced angrily at his hand that he stopped and smiled. “We’re not here to force you into anything, Alice. But Ominis is right, you both have a strong connection to Mr Sallow—” 
“And that’s exactly why this request is ridiculous.”
Alice pushed away from his desk and headed for the door, easily shrugging off Ominis’ touch on her way past. Faris stood, whispering to let her go, before calling out to her as she swung the door open. “Alice, you have until the end of the day. Otherwise, Ominis must pick a new partner—or go alone.” 
She didn’t respond, but the words sunk into her back as if they were digging their way towards her heart and Alice hated it. The Ministry had a lot of tactics, ones that slowly chipped away at you, but using your feelings for someone—was their favourite. Faris knew of their strange relationship, unrequited feelings if you could call it that and he did well to play on it, as if they both were nothing but pawns to them. And that’s exactly what they were, nothing but a means to get things done—when the Ministry didn’t want to get their hands dirty. But unlike Ominis, Alice had always shown the possibilities of going rogue, she was talented yes, but unpredictable and that frightened them. 
Slamming the door shut behind her, Alice barely acknowledged the reactions from those waiting patiently to speak with the Minister and stormed out. She had grown used to being looked at, as if she was a spoilt child—destined to make things difficult. But no one truly understood what she was going through, not really and she despised everyone for it. They treated her like a fool, picking away at how easily her heart controlled her actions and yet, they always asked more of her. Alice had thought often, perhaps more than one should, about leaving the Ministry—only to disappear completely, but she always ended up staying and it was always for Ominis. 
•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•
Ominis always knew where to find Alice when she disappeared from the office. Realising that despite wishing to get away, she could never really go that far—something he would often tease her for and yet, he was glad for it. The Ministry held many secrets, with its walls containing much of the knowledge about their world, but the one place Alice enjoyed most was the vivariums they had acquired. They were found in the Department of Magical Creatures, usually off-limits to those that weren’t from that sector, but Alice always managed to slip in unnoticed—it had become such a normality, that they eventually allowed her permission. Truthfully it amused her that her unsanctioned visits became such an annoyance that the department just gave up and left her be, but it wasn’t as if she was doing anything wrong.
No, in fact, all she needed from the vivariums—was a place to hide and being surrounded by magical beasts was just an added perk. Slowly moving the sleeping niffler from her lap, Alice refused to look up when a shadow covered her, perhaps already knowing who it was. And yet, Alice’s fingers twitched slightly as if she was preparing to reach for her wand. The reaction alone caused Ominis to chuckle under his breath and Alice recalled a past memory, one where he had mentioned she tensed her fingers too much. So much so, that he could always tell when she moved them, his explanation being that he had gotten used to the sound. But Alice just thought he was guessing and somehow got it right every time, for it didn’t make sense for him to be so attuned with her—right?
“You need a better hiding spot,” Ominis said, sitting down beside her and when his arm brushed hers, Alice exhaled and leaned back on her hands. She wasn’t mad, no that wasn’t the right feeling, truthfully Alice was disappointed—perhaps she had hoped Ominis would suddenly agree that everything was wrong. But he never did and she hummed sadly, when he nudged her. “I’m sorry for calling you unreasonable, Alice. I, perhaps, should have been more considerate of your feelings.” 
“Should have been? Ominis, all these years and you’re still terrible at apologising. I suppose none of my griping stuck—I sure am glad I even tried.”
Ominis smiled and reached forward to scratch the niffler’s head, which had now awoken and moved to nibble at his shoelaces. Alice pouted as she sat up and moved him away, the niffler whining softly in the process—but her thoughts were preoccupied, when Ominis’ fingers brushed hers. “Isn't that a part of my charm? Being harsh suits me, don’t you think?” 
“Not at all actually, it’s an act you’ve got incredibly good at—but, it doesn’t suit you, nor is it the real you,” Alice said, nudging the niffler to join the others as Ominis rested his head against his arms, which were now perched on his knees. Alice watched him curiously, reminiscing about their moments in the bell tower courtyard, sitting just like this and she smiled when he hummed softly. “You thought I didn’t notice, right? No matter how bad I got, I always noticed you Ominis. You were just always too afraid to let anyone see you—”
“I, let you see me.” 
Alice’s jaw tensed and she looked away. Not because she was embarrassed, that would have been too easy, instead she felt rather guilty. She knew Ominis had fallen in love with her by the end of their sixth-year, but she couldn’t give him her heart fully and so she gave him none of it. “I suppose you did…do you want to know what I saw?”
“Enlighten me…please? I would be lying if I said I wasn’t curious?” Ominis said, moving his head now so that he looked in her direction completely and Alice swallowed shyly, keeping her focus on the grass as she began to pick at it. “What exactly did you see?” 
“Well, I saw pain…and I saw love.” 
Alice smiled as she thought about the memories they had shared and how Ominis brought her back to life. He was the warmth her body craved and he had never strayed too far, it was cruel yes—but they both had gotten so used to it and Alice didn’t want to let him go. “I saw a boy who found the light amongst the darkness, challenging everything it threw at him and yet, you never allowed it to consume you. I wish I could have said the same for myself. But I think what I love the most about you Ominis, is that the real you, is kind—is bright.”
“Bright? Now, I feel like my curiosity has only grown,” Ominis said, his smile quickly hiding against his arms as he turned back to look ahead and he chuckled softly when Alice huffed and nudged him. He could tell she was trying to be sincere, her words seeping their way into his heart, only to restart it again and he gently nudged her back in response—despite wishing to do something else. “Tell me more, I like listening to you talk—especially when you’re talking about me.” 
“How vexing, I think I’d rather stop there…you know, before your head gets too big for your shoulders.”
Ominis nodded in agreement, perhaps just to give up on teasing her and Alice laughed as if she had won something. Truthfully the reason he was here was to try and get her to reconsider the idea of visiting Azkaban and although it seemed impossible, he might have relied too much on their friendship. Hoping she would end up agreeing to the request. “We still need to speak about it, Alice. You do know that right?” 
“And there you go, ruining the mood,” Alice said, before she stood up and dusted herself off. It was clear that Ominis wasn’t here for anything more than what they had been tasked with and honestly, Alice actually felt a little hurt. But it’s not until Ominis followed her and grabbed her arm, that the hurt slowly turned to anger. “I already told you I won’t go, Ominis. I don’t plan to change my mind.” 
“So you’re not at all curious? They told me his cell is filled with writing, scribbles—what if he has left something for us to find?” 
Alice tried to pull away now, wishing for Ominis to get the hint that she didn’t want to do this. She barely liked the idea of Azkaban on its own, but now thinking about it being the place Sebastian had been for the last few years—frightened her and so when she finally yanked herself free, Alice took a step back. “Or, here’s a thought…he might have just gone mad—like everyone else that enters that place.” 
“But don’t you want to make sure? Alice, think logically for a second here,” Ominis said, stepping to the right, just in time to catch Alice from trying to make a beeline for the door and when she grumbled and tried to push him away—he simply held on tighter, until she gave up and looked away. “What if he left something for…you? If you truly want to believe he left to find peace, wouldn’t he have left you a goodbye?” 
“That’s not fair, Ominis.”
Ominis hated himself for the tactics he had learnt from working with the Ministry, but he knew that without Alice, any hope in finding Sebastian would be fruitless and so he swallowed his guilt. “None of this is fair, but we don’t have a choice. I understand the intensity of the situation, but will you truly make me do this alone? I wasn’t lying when I said I needed you with me for this.” 
It wasn’t hard to figure out what Ominis was doing. In fact, Alice almost wanted to laugh at him, as if he had somehow forgotten that they had both been taught the same tactics and although the situation seemed to amuse her, Alice wondered if there was any truth behind it. She hadn’t allowed herself to think about Sebastian in Azkaban, the thoughts filled with so much darkness that even she felt sick from them, but sometimes—when Alice found herself transfixed on her memories of him, they often slipped into her head and she would always end up crying. Perhaps, that is why she didn’t want to go through with it. Alice had created such a barrier in her head, pretending that Sebastian was safe and unharmed, that visiting Azkaban would destroy that. It would remind her of the guilt she felt on the night he was taken and how she couldn’t even bring herself to say goodbye.
Feeling Ominis’ hands slowly move to reach for her face, Alice finally looked back at him and she didn’t realise she had started to cry, until his thumbs delicately swiped at her cheeks. But it’s only after she looked at him properly, her eyes shifting between his softened gaze to his lips, slightly parted—that her hands slowly wrapped around his waist and she pulled him closer. “You’ve gotten awfully good at manipulating, Ominis. I’m not sure if I should be afraid or impressed.” 
“I’m not trying to manipulate you, Alice—”
“Oh? Forgive me then, I must be losing my mind,” Alice said, slowly leaning her forehead against his chest and using his heartbeat as a way to slow her own. Except, considering his own was beating just as rapidly against his chest as hers—her plan failed before it even began and so she could only hum in defeat. “You know, you could have just begged. I might have just agreed if you did.”    
Ominis’ arms had snaked around Alice now, providing her with the comfort she needed, no matter the pain that lingered with it. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want to allow Sebastian back in their lives—purely for the sadness that he brought with him. But perhaps, Ominis had just been hoping their demons stayed in the dark. “Do I look like someone who has to beg?” 
“For me—you should have tried. For this…you should have pulled out every tactic in the book,” Alice said, pulling back just enough to look up at him and she realised his eyes were flickering, as if he was thinking about what to say or what to do, she pouted—she could feel it already stretching them both, ripping at their hearts and she gently reached for his face. “Perhaps then, I could have pretended—”
“And perhaps, I just hoped you would have followed me without question? If I was him, you would have.”
Alice’s hand tensed against his cheek and she would have pulled it away, except Ominis swiftly held it in place with his own. She hated the fact that he was right, she would have done anything for Sebastian—and Alice almost did. “Ominis, you must understand—”
“I understand perfectly well, Alice. Do not forget, I was there too,” Ominis said, his eyes closing softly and suddenly her hand loosened, now laying limp, but he didn’t remove his hand and he certainly didn’t wish for her touch to disappear—so she allowed him to keep them connected. “But, we cannot sit by and let this destroy us. He’s done that enough, ingraining himself into our pain—we need closure…and I won’t lose everything I’ve worked for…for him, I can’t.”
“You can barely mutter his name anymore. Could you actually find it in you, to bring him in?” 
Ominis’ eyes fluttered open and a lopsided smile appeared on his face, almost making Alice want to slap him for the timing of it, but it quickly faded and when his sadness returned—she finally pulled her touch from his face and bundled his hands together in hers. “I’ve said his name plenty of times. In fact, I don’t say his name, simply—because of you. I know it hurts you more…hearing it. So I try my best not to use it.” 
She should have known that from the beginning Ominis had tried to be considerate of her and yet, Alice still wished to refuse. Deep down, she had thought she had it all planned out—only agreeing to help, until things got too intense. But now, Alice was almost too afraid to pull away, realising that the whole time she had been following Ominis along to visit the Minister—the gnawing sensation of guilt and responsibility had slowly been building. She now felt stuck, as if she was torn between hurting herself or Ominis and she swallowed down her fear, knowing she would always choose to suffer over him. 
“How would we do this?” Alice asked, her voice now soft and unsure, as if she was having to force out the words. Because truthfully, she wished to say something else, she would have loved nothing more than to tell him no and be done with it. But Alice always knew that Ominis had a way with words and perhaps, she should have known that despite everything—she was always going to agree in the end. “I’m afraid, Ominis. Auror’s aren’t meant to be afraid.” 
“And who told you that? Alice, do not forget—as an Auror we risk our lives every day? If you weren’t afraid, I would be concerned.” 
Alice forced a smile and gave his hands a gentle squeeze, before she let them go. She was battling herself already, but perhaps overcoming this first step—would eventually help, when she came face to face with Sebastian and so she exhaled and straightened her uniform. “And are you afraid?”
“Of course I am. He—Sebastian, was practically my brother. I would have done anything for him and he broke that trust, Alice,” Ominis said, his voice showing no sign of fear or pain and Alice always felt jealous at how he could hide how he was feeling, while hers lay bare—for everyone to see. “Everything that has happened, was because of his decisions. But, that doesn’t mean I’m not afraid of seeing him again. We are more alike than you know, you and I…I’m just better—”
“At hiding it, yes. It’s as if you’ve read my mind.”
Ominis chuckled softly and reached forward to fiddle with her hair, which she hadn’t noticed was slightly out of place, until his fingers brushed through it. Alice wondered if he knew somehow, or just simply used it as an excuse to touch her—either way, she let him do it. “I would like to say I could read your mind, but I am not sure I would like to…besides, truthfully you’re just consistent and so I don’t have to try too hard to figure you out.” 
“Why does that sort of feel like an insult?” Alice asked, shivering slightly when Ominis’ fingers brushed along the side of her face, before he pulled away and offered her his arm. Ominis was smiling now, a more innocent version of the smile he had donned since earlier, but it was still a smile and Alice grumbled slightly at his reaction. “Do you plan to tease me the whole time? Or just while you try to win me over…is this some sort of new tactic of yours—reverse psychology, perhaps?
“I will neither confirm nor deny that statement…my tactics are my own.”
Alice huffed and took his arm. She had always found it strange how quickly Ominis could calm her down, in a way that made her feel like she could take on anything. And although her fear was now just buried deeper within the pit of her stomach, Alice perhaps had a small inkling of hope. “Keep your secrets then…but I’ll get it out of you one day.”
“If you’re sweet enough, I would consider telling you,” Ominis said, jolting slightly when Alice pinched at his side and so he took it as a sign that they could finally leave the safety of the vivarium, perhaps pulling Alice back into reality. But when Ominis felt her tense slightly, all he could do was hum softly and pull her closer. “Hey…we’ve got this, alright? I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere. We’re in this together.”
“Right, yes…together.” 
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Azkaban, what a dreadful place. Nightmares barely did it justice, but despite the icy touch of the wind, drifting in from the sea or the Dementor’s that floated above, desperate to feed on anything good—it was the screaming that Alice hated the most. Now, it wasn’t as if she didn’t believe there were many that deserved to be here. Knowing well that a few of the dark wizards that lay behind its walls, had every right to be locked away. It was the fact that knowing Sebastian was once a part of them, always made her want to throw up and she might have—if it wasn’t for Ominis, comforting her from the sidelines.
There appeared to be more Auror’s stationed at Azkaban now, a lot more since Sebastian’s escape and even Alice had to admit that she commended their courage. Faris had asked her once, more so in passing, if she would be interested in guarding the prison—and she practically scoffed in his face. Even if it wasn’t for Sebastian, Alice was more than aware that she would never be cut out to be stationed here. The idea of being in such a place haunted her dreams and so she was always thankful to have Ominis alongside her, putting in a good word. Faris had commanded the Dementor’s to stay back, just enough so that the Auror’s could walk freely—but Alice made sure to keep her guard up anyway. 
Feeling Ominis pull at her arm, Alice quickly snapped from her thoughts and frowned, realising she had lingered too long at the registrations office. The man behind the counter had long since disappeared, perhaps annoyed by her just standing there and so she slowly turned as Ominis’ hand glided down her arm and reached for her own. “You’ve got this, Alice. I’m right here.” 
“It just feels wrong—”
“This place is just a place—at the end of the day, we won’t be long. So hold onto your strength, even if you have to search deep for it,” Ominis said, his voice soft and toneless, as if he didn’t know whether his sarcasm fitted a place such as this and so he kept his words tense and professional. Alice mocked him silently, knowing that he had opted to be the brave one for once, a title they would usually fight for—but not here, not now. “Besides, we’ve got a job to do. The sooner we find something, the quicker we can put this place behind us.” 
Alice looked at Ominis properly now, realising that she had been trying her best not to look at his reaction to the place and when she finally did, Alice’s hand quickly tightened around his. His face had begun to contort slightly with each new scream that they heard and she wondered just how much more intense the place was to him, to his senses. Slowly moving to place her free hand against his chest, Alice froze with how quickly his heart was beating and her frown only deepened. “You don’t have to be brave, you know? I understand better than anyone.”  
“One of us has to be brave, I’m just choosing for us.” 
“I suppose I have no other option, but to accept. Though I don’t like it,” Alice said, swallowing nervously as Ominis slowly pulled her with him and when her eyes glued to just how tensely he was holding his wand, she leaned into his side. No matter how many times he told her, he was being brave, she would never believe it. “Do we have a time limit? I feel like I’ll need a moment to get over the initial visit—before I can even work properly.”
Ominis chuckled softly and perhaps a little abruptly, the sound echoing off the walls and although it was a little out of place—Alice welcomed the sound. It made her feel grounded, as if she was still whole and so she squeezed his hand again. “Only mere hours ago, you said you’d never step foot in here. Now, you want to make sure you have enough time to have a breakdown and be able to do your job? You’ve always been strange…but, that’s a new one.” 
“Clearly, I’m just full of surprises. Can’t you just be happy that I’m here.” 
“Oh, I’m very happy, don’t get me wrong. It’s just amusing that’s all,” Ominis said, a smile teasing on his lips as he realised that their small talk was keeping Alice distracted enough from the cell blocks they had been passing and so he continued. “Truthfully, I must admit that it makes me feel like you chose to come…well, because of me. I suppose it’s a nice thought, even if I’m wrong.”
Alice hummed softly and noticed the two Auror’s stood guard in front of a cell block and so she quickly let go of his hand. Ominis wasn’t wrong, if she had been asked by anyone else, she would have never set foot in Azkaban. But it was different coming from him and Alice knew that in the end, it was the right thing to do—no matter how much it hurt. The Auror’s stationed by Sebastian’s cell, looked tired, perhaps even sad and when Ominis acknowledged them, ignoring Alice’s sudden silence, the Auror’s nodded and moved to the side. It felt like ripping off a bandaid, the slow pull Ominis had to do as Alice stalled in the doorway, but he had gotten her this far—and so he simply refused to let her turn back now. 
They had been right about his cell. The walls were covered in carvings, some words were legible, while others were scribbled and sporadic. But Alice found her focus had landed on the moulding bed in the corner of the room, if you could even call it that. Before she slowly pulled away from Ominis—and reached out to poke at the moth-eaten sheet, that laid along it. Had Sebastian truly been here, suffering with nothing but his thoughts and the icy touch of the sea, Alice in that moment felt her stomach tense and she covered her mouth. Her vision grew hazy before she had a chance to do anything, realising that it was more than she could bear and it was only after Ominis grabbed her shoulder—that Alice stood up and buried herself into his chest.
“This place…he…Ominis, he was just a boy. We were just kids,” Alice said, her voice broken with silent sobs and she tightly gripped at his coat, twisting it so harshly that it felt as if it was going to rip. But Ominis didn’t say anything about it, he just simply held her close and softly rubbed at the back of her head. “It’s horrible…everything, he was just a stupid kid.” 
“Alice…I’m sorry, I know this is difficult. If you need a moment…” 
Alice shook her head against his chest and tightened her grip. She didn’t want him to let her go and she hated herself for it. All of her confidence had suddenly disappeared now and she felt like she was suffocating, the air feeling tight and restricting. But Alice didn’t want it to be like this and although she sobbed softly into him, wetting his coat ever so slightly, she tried to think of ways to calm herself down—and yet, she had nothing. “I just need…you to hold me. Don’t let me go, please.” 
“I’m not going anywhere, Alice,” Ominis said, resting his chin against the top of her head now and he just held her. Her pain slowly engulfed him, swallowing them both into an intense moment of reminiscing about their school days and of Sebastian. It was sickening and Ominis felt every hair on his body stand up, but he promised her he would be brave—so he had to be brave. “Do you think you can continue…? If you can’t, I will understand.” 
“I just…need a moment, I’m sorry. But, I won’t give up…just yet.”
Ominis hummed sadly and pulled her head back, his hands now gripping her face gently as his thumbs lightly drew circles against her cheeks. His eyebrows had furrowed at her answer and when she tried to pull herself back into him, he held her in place—making her whine softly. “Don’t you ever apologise to me. Not over this, Alice. I don’t ever want to hear those words come from your mouth, do you hear me? I’m no monster…I know this isn’t just another job. But it is now our responsibility to see it through.” 
“You’re too good at this, Ominis,” Alice said, gently straightening out his coat which had now been dishevelled by her touch and he smiled softly at her words. She did mean it though, Ominis always knew exactly what to say and he did it with such ease—that it felt as if he had practised it beforehand. But truthfully, it was just another thing he was perfect at and she welcomed it openly. “Let’s just get this over with…I don’t wish to stay here, longer than needed.” 
“I’ll be right here, you can even hold my hand…if you need to.”
Alice smiled weakly and leaned up to plant a soft kiss against his cheek, before she even realised what she was doing and pulled away. Ominis’ eyes had widened just enough to show that he was surprised by the sudden reaction and so Alice quickly took a step back, reaching slowly for her lips. “Ominis…I…I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” 
“It’s alright, tensions are high…I understand. Do not concern yourself,” Ominis said, his voice a little shy and as she watched him turn slightly, reaching a hand to his cheek—the guilt returned in the pit of Alice’s stomach and she frowned, biting at her nails, before moving to look around the room. “Will you…can you tell me what you see?”
“Words…just tons of words, scratched into the walls—against the floor. It’s as if he was trying to remember them…or, wait.”  
Moving past Ominis slowly, making sure to give him a gentle squeeze on the arm, almost in hopes to make the situation less awkward. Alice used her wand to illuminate the darkened walls of the cell, before she realised that some words had been underlined. But what seemed more strange was that the certain words, which had been marked, were perhaps trying to tell them something and soon enough—Alice picked up on what Sebastian had left them. 
“You were right, Ominis. He’s left us something indeed,” Alice said, her voice still shaky and despite clearly feeling proud of herself for figuring it out, her heart still ached from just being in amongst the walls of his cell and so she hummed sadly and turned towards Ominis. “There are certain words spread around the cell that have been underlined, but that’s not all. Within those certain words, each one has a number of lines etched underneath them—”
“A message—he left us a message.”
Alice nodded and moved towards Ominis, outstretching her hand to him. Magic was not allowed to be used within the walls of Azkaban, perhaps with the worry of the prisoners being able to get a hold of it and so they had to go old school. “Do you still have that pen and notepad? I think I can decipher his message.”
“I’m surprised the others didn’t notice this,” Ominis said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out what she needed, before he smiled as she quickly took it and turned him around. Ominis understood well that she wouldn’t want to sit against the floor of the cell, so he happily offered his back—which she used for a table. “Perhaps, they just didn’t look hard enough.”
“It’s a little on the nose…but I only noticed it by accident. Perhaps, they didn’t see the need to linger here.” 
Ominis chuckled softly and Alice whined as the pen slipped slightly, smudging her writing. She had now pushed him towards the wall and placed her wand between her teeth, narrowing her eyes faintly, just enough to still see the walls and when she wrote down the final word—she pulled away. “So? What does it say?”
“It says—’in the heart of where lovers once shared their first kiss, there lies a letter. Find it.’—I suppose, even being in here, he didn’t lose his love for the theatrics,” Alice said, her eyes scanning over the paper, rereading it as if she had gotten it wrong and yet it matched perfectly with what was scratched out against the walls of the cell. “I might be wrong…but I think I might know of this place.” 
“Are you saying this is about you and him?”
Alice looked up as her hands started to shake and she realised Ominis had turned to face her, his jaw tensed just enough that she could see it had caught him off guard and she hummed sadly. They should have known that Sebastian would have pulled something like this, but what did it mean? “Well…there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?” 
“And where does this letter lead us, Alice?” Ominis asked, his words suddenly more tense and although he was trying to sound like it hadn’t bothered him, for the first time—Alice noticed the shift in his voice and she pouted slightly as she reached for him, only to pull back slowly. “This feels almost too intimate, I wonder how Sebastian would feel with you sharing it with me.” 
“If…I’m right, our next stop is Hogwarts—the Undercroft, to be more exact.”
Ominis chuckled a little defeated and straightened his coat, perhaps to keep his hands preoccupied before he raised his wand and pointed towards the door. Alice could see that this hurt him, in a different way from simply getting a step closer to finding Sebastian and she desperately wished to reach for him—but she couldn’t move and he exhaled softly, moving towards the door. “Well, it seems that we have to take a trip down memory lane. Shall we?” 
Alice didn’t hesitate with leaving, wishing to be as far away from Azkaban as she could possibly be, but knowing that Ominis was upset—made her stomach twist uncomfortably. But, he could never truly stay mad at her for very long and he knew deep down that this situation was going to be hard for the both of them and so he hummed softly, reaching out his hand. There were too many memories attached to this job and Ominis knew it was only going to get worse, the closer they got to Sebastian and so he chose to ignore his feelings—at least for now.
Once Alice took his hand, her grip tightening almost immediately, Ominis forced a smile and pulled her closer. He didn’t want her to feel guilty, his unrequited feelings weren't her fault, but it sure did suck. The pair eventually made their way outside, thankful that the icy wind had grown still with the evening sky and without another word—perhaps just desperate to get this over with, they quickly apparated back to where their story began. 
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
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sneakyparsnipslicer · 5 months
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Master Of Disguise
[Part 1 of a 2 Part story I've had an idea for. Enjoy folks!]
Conrad Phelps, 37. Convicted felon. Arrested on the charge of Homicide. Serving life imprisonment, or so it should have been intended.
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To say Conrad was scum would be an understatement, murderer of 7 men, 5 women and 3 children following a mass shooting he conducted at a supermarket of which he showed no remorse, it was a miracle he hadn't faced the electric chair. Maybe it was down to UK laws not using such means to end a person's life. Maybe it was down to his lawyer managing to convince the judge and jury to sentence him to life imprisonment, either way Conrad knew it was only a matter of time before the relatives of his victims would be out for his blood.
Life in prison was rough, no matter what you did, inmates soon discover the crimes you commit. Naturally many had come to give Conrad what they deemed fair, be it punches or kicks, he soon learned to watch his back around the fraudulents, rapists and other murderers he saw day to day. He tried to keep a low profile, but it was very rare he got left alone, always quizzed by those more self-righteous than him, though in his eyes they were all the same. The scum of society. Despite his charge, he was granted privileges just as any other and he spent time in the Library reading. Again, many of the others found that grounds to jest at his condition, but after a few months they got tired of him and moved onto other targets, leaving him to his reading.
As time went on, Conrad read enough to begin getting ideas. Formulating plans of escape in his mind, and more importantly how to avoid recapture by the Police. Granted security was tight, there were opportunities he came to identify. The yard for instance, with a well-timed distraction as someone unlocks the gate it could be possible to slip out. Maybe knocking out a Policeman on duty and stealing their uniform could work, but it might be tough to get through Security on the way out. One thing was certain, he had no intentions of dying there.
Plans took a turn during a visit one day. Conrad received a call a few days before from his own brother Tim. He was surprised to hear his voice and was sure that, like the rest of his family, he'd turned his back on him. They'd always been close growing up, and became estranged after Conrad's homicide. Conrad sat in his booth patiently as the guests began to fill into the room. Sure enough the seat opposite was filled by Tim. He looked searchingly at Conrad for a short while.
'Hey Conrad, how have you been?' asked Tim.
'I'm alright Tim, bit surprised to see you honestly. How are the family?' replied Conrad.
'They were relocated due to the protection programme, they moved me and my kids elsewhere too. It's been tough readjusting but we're all managing' smiled Tim. Conrad nodded.
'Sorry to hear that. I imagine it's been challenging' said Conrad. Tim sighed.
'Yeah, you really fucked everything up. Because of you I can't be too honest, every person I speak to might secretly know I'm your brother and want revenge for those you killed' said Tim, looking to the ground and shaking his head. Conrad did feel a twinge of regret hearing this.
'Why did you come here today Tim?' asked Conrad. Tim paused and looked him dead in the eyes.
'I want this all to be over, for us all to be able to get the life back we had' Tim whispered, not blinking. Conrad stared back too, unblinking. It was strange, something felt off.
'I've been doing research since you can't exactly get books on occult magic here and I've got a good way to get you out of here' said Tim quietly.
'How?' asked Conrad quietly.
'It's going to involve faking your death, and possession of someone else' Tim explained, Conrad shuddered, but nodded in agreement.
'How do I do it?' Conrad asked, intrigued. Tim, unmoving, smiled as his eyes began to faintly glow purple. It was then that Conrad felt something twist in his mind, an inhuman knowledge that no amount of reading and studying could have prepared him for. Tim's eyes began to dim and he snapped out of his trance, shaking his head.
'You understand what you have to do?' asked Tim. Conrad nodded.
'Yes, I do' replied Conrad. Tim smiled and nodded.
'Wait, how do I find you?' asked Conrad, at which Tim shook his head.
'Oh I don't intend to see you again Conrad, call it selfish but I'm doing this more for the rest of us. This way we get left alone and you get to begin again' Tim said. Conrad took a moment to think about it, but nodded.
'That's fair enough, and I understand. Thanks for coming to see me one last time' Conrad smiled.
'Just don't mess it up for yourself' warned Tim. Shortly after, the bell rang, time was up. Tim left his seat, not looking back at Conrad. He saw his brother leave through the door and turn the corner down the hallway, certain that was the last he'd ever see of his younger brother.
The rest of the day went about as usual, Conrad quietly counting down the hours to lock up. When the time came, he stood by his bed as inspection was carried out. In came PC Withers, a middle-aged policeman pushing 50. He looked at Conrad and sighed.
'Well I want no trouble Phelps, let's make this a quick one' he said, shuffling over to investigate the toilet behind the door.
'Naturally Officer, I wouldn't want to cause any trouble' said Conrad, smiling. Withers looked to him and gave a dry chuckle.
'Trouble? Didn't think of that when you killed those poor kids!' replied PC Withers, moving to examine the chest of drawers, pulling out clothing.
'No I suppose not' said Conrad vacantly, looking to the door. Having found nothing unusual in the drawers, he began to move to Conrad's bed.
'Get that cleared up Phelps' ordered Withers snapping his fingers and pointing to the mess of clothes on the floor. Conrad nodded, making his way over. As soon as he'd passed by the Officer, he turned and delivered a heavy punch to the back of his head, knocking him onto Conrad's bed. Conrad turned to face him, hesitating in case Withers got back up. He made his way over and turned him to face the ceiling, he was out cold. Conrad pulled PC Withers' eyelids open, revealing his vacant-looking eyes and stared intently into them. A few seconds passed and Conrad's eyes began to glow purple, lifting Withers up into a sitting position, Conrad moved to lock lips with him. Conrad's entire body glew purple as his soul passed from his own body to PC Withers'. Eventually Conrad stopped glowing and his body fell limp onto the bed as Withers began to stir.
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He opened his eyes and looked at his old body slumped over him. Conrad sat up, feeling his more built figure and correcting his glasses. He'd done it. He moved his old body off him and tucked him into bed, proceeding to stuff the clothes back into the drawer. He took one last look at his old body.
'Right, that'll be all Phelps' he said aloud, tipping his hat to him. He opened the cell door and proceeded to lock it. As much as Conrad wanted to just leave right then and there, he knew he had to finish PC Withers' checks in order not to arouse suspicion. And so he proceeded to investigate a few more cells. Eventually the team of Officers had completed their checks and proceeded to hand over the shift to the night staff. Thankfully, Conrad had access to PC Withers' mind, so he knew his locker code.
'Ey up Baz, how did the shift go?' asked a voice. Conrad looked and saw another of the Officers, PC Dickens move to his locker. Dickens was a lot younger and fresh-faced, easily in his mid 20s. Conrad wished for a moment he'd been able to take over Dickens rather than Withers.
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'Evening Grant, yeah the inmates weren't too bad, few fights but then what's new' he asked, chuckling. Dickens was changing his shirt and Conrad was transfixed on the guy's back. Taking over him would be way too much of a risky move. But it gave him an idea of what type of body he'd like to settle for. Conrad hurried up and changed too, putting on Withers' baggy t-shirt and shorts.
'Oh, you've got a holiday coming up haven't you Baz?' Dickens asked. Conrad searched Withers' thoughts.
'Oh yeah, me and the missus are going camping over the weekend, almost forgot!' chuckled Conrad. Thinking about it, it'd be a perfect opportunity to shed himself of old Barry Withers and find a more permanent body for himself.
'Well don't you go having too much fun, say hi to Teresa for me!' said Dickens cheekily, closing his locker and waving as he left the locker room. Conrad looked at his reflection in the locker mirror, that old face looking back at him. He thought about his old body laying motionless in his cell. This was the start of a new life, and a chance to make life easier for his family.
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whumpty-dumpty-doo · 2 months
Text
We Are TroubleD - "A Breathtaking View"
Written as a part of @whumperofworlds' WoW's Birthday Whump Event!
Day 14 (my chosen prompts are bolded): Guilt / Chased / "I bought you time, use it!"
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Event page | My event participation masterpost (coming soon) | “We Are TroubleD” Masterpost | First | Previous | Next
Don't worry, you haven't missed the entries for days 6-13! For more info, please see the notes at the bottom of the post.
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Content warnings: Blood (minor), captivity, difficulty breathing, fear (and fear of death), inability to breathe, injuries (bruises, leg, minor cuts), loss of consciousness/passing out, manhandling, physical abuse (kicking, punching, slapping, strangling), potential character death, recapture, restraints, strangulation, struggling, swearing
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            The escape attempt hadn’t gone well for D. While T had been able to slip out and actually get away, D… well…
            Once his friend left, D had managed to make a decent dent in his ankle cuff by focusing on the strap that held the metal loop securing the chain. He had weakened the leather considerably by raking the scissor blades across the spot over and over, and finally, after a lot of yanking and twisting, it had popped open. At last, he was free from the shackle that tethered him to the wall. The cuff itself was still attached to him, but he could work with that. 
            He hastily stuffed the scissors under his mattress, then bolted into the main area of the basement and scanned around for the window that T had used to escape. There was a chair pushed up to one of the walls, and he figured that was the spot.
            His breath caught at the sound of floorboards squeaking above him. Shit, shit shit! His captor was awake! It was do or die now. No time to waste. He scurried up the chair, slid the glass open, hoisted himself up, and stuck his front half out into the world.
            Cool morning air filled his lungs, so crisp and refreshing that his heart wanted to sing. He could see the sky again without a windowpane separating him from it. The sun hadn’t quite crested the horizon yet, but it was marching along. And the grass… God, he never thought he’d miss seeing grass.
            The image was ripped away far too quickly though. There was no warning, just an instantaneous action– an unseen hand grabbed his ankle and yanked, violently jerking him back through the window frame. In a frenzy he grasped for anything he could find, but there was nothing around him large enough to latch onto.
            D crashed to the basement floor with a howl of pain as he landed on his right leg. It cushioned him a little bit, but it was not a short distance to fall. He couldn’t even process what had just happened before his captor was behind him seizing his arms and holding them securely behind his back.
            “THE FUCK YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING?!” he demanded.
            D was aghast as he was pulled to his feet.
            “Get off of me!” he threw his whole body to try to wriggle free of the man’s grasp, but that only caused him to be drawn in tighter and held against his captor’s chest.
            A strong hand wrapped itself around his throat and applied pressure, not enough to choke, but enough to send a warning.
            “STOP!” D shouted, tossing his head, but he was suddenly quite scared.
            “How the fuck did you get free?!” the man squeezed his throat a little tighter and D stilled for his own safety, swallowing hard. He pulled in a few shallow gasps as he thought about his answer, his heart pounding.
            “Dull tool… sharp wit…” he croaked. A small cocky smile pulled at the edge of D’s lips. It wasn’t the time for sass, but snark made him feel better.
            “Real explanation, boy.” the grip tightened, so much so that D could no longer answer him.
            D strained until the man’s hand loosened, allowing him to suck in deep breaths again. Unfortunately, there was virtually no time to recover before he was pushed toward the storeroom. He planted his feet, but his captor just swiveled him around and dragged him backwards. D growled and flailed again.
            The boy was furious, but he wasn’t foolish enough to think this wouldn’t be a possibility. It had taken him a long time after T had left to work through the strap. It truly was just a matter of time before his captor woke up and came to check on them. The odds of D being caught were pretty high.
            Still, he had that stupid little glimmer of hope in his mind once he was free. The second he stuck his front out the window and smelled the dew on the leaves… heard the birds chirping their morning melodies…
            D grit his teeth, snarling, kicking, and thrashing against the man’s grasp. His intention wasn’t exactly to get away—though he would try to run again if he got the chance—he just wanted to slow the bastard down a bit and make it harder to pull him back into the storeroom… Anything to buy T more time to find help.
            Why not poke the hornet’s nest a bit while he was at it, too?
            “Mad you got outsmarted?” D taunted. “Yeah, I bet so, you piece of shit. I almost got away with it, too. You’re lucky I went for the window and not for your throat. I’ll get through both next time.”
            A heavy fist collided with his skull and D was momentarily stunned, but quickly shook off the feeling with a smirk.
            “Getting to you, hm? Can dish out taunts, but can’t take them? You’re pathetic.”
He was punched again, harder this time. It took D a little longer to bounce back from that one, but he laughed, a little weaker than before.
            “It’s almost over for you and you have no idea. We won, bitch.”
            His captor was probably about to indulge him by asking what he was talking about when they reached the storeroom. He took one look over his shoulder to navigate inside, however, and saw that both mattresses were empty. His nails dug into D’s arms.
            “WHERE IS HE?!” he bellowed.
            D lifted his head, staring his captor right in the eyes as he flashed him a smug, shit-eating grin.    
            “Gone.”
            The man roared and ripped something off of the wall- another set of thick leather cuffs. D was swung around and thrown to the floor where his wrists were shackled swiftly behind him. Still, he kept up his goading smile.
            “Tie me up again, sure. You’re a one-trick pony. It doesn’t matter either way; I’m not scared, and you’re too late. Help’s on its way.”
            A sharp kick connected with his ribs and D yipped, then groaned out a swear as he curled in on himself. It was the only thing that gave him pause.
            “Shut up you fucking brat! Where did he go?!” his captor flipped D over to face him, and D, battered but still combative, pressed his lips together and shook his head.
            He was slapped across the face. D might not have been scared in the moment, but the man apparently was.
            D felt something dribble from the side of his mouth, and he licked at it. Blood. Huh. Imagine that.
            “WHERE. DID. HE. GO?” another slap, but D stared defiantly back up at him.
            “Get fucked.”
            He only made a small gasp when the man’s hands were back on his neck, progressively constricting it tighter and tighter.
            “You won’t… kill me…” D challenged, and he knew it was true. The whole point of his stay here was to be ransomed. His parents would have no reason to pay this asshole if he was dead.
            The grip became more intense.
            “Last chance, boy. Where. Is. He?”
            D sputtered and quivered, his body fighting on its own to breathe. His thoughts were growing fuzzy, the need for air slowly beginning to overtake his loyalties.
            “I don’t… know… He ran…” he choked out.
            But the hands didn’t leave his throat… they only pressed tighter. Panic flashed in D’s eyes; He thought he’d be released after giving up some information. It was intentionally vague, but it was the truth. The threat had worked, at least a little bit.
            Black dots danced before his eyes, and he gave another desperate shudder, frantically trying to suck in a breath to plead for his life. The links on his cuffs rattled angrily as he struggled and shook. The world was falling away.
            No… It couldn’t end like this…
            His vision tunneled, darkness encroaching on all sides.
            ‘T… I need you… please…’
            Then there was nothing.
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Day 14!
If you're clicking through these and wondering why you just jumped from day 5 to day 14, it's because I decided to post these in the order that made the most sense for my story chronologically. This whole escape scenario kind of blossomed far beyond what I expected it to and wound up becoming its own mini story, so here we are! I couldn't wrestle the prompt days in order to fit the story I wanted to tell, so that's why they're hopping around a bit. Sorry!
Entries for the other days are coming. To see the entries in event prompt day order, please see my event participation masterpost (coming soon, will be linked here when it's up).
If you have any questions, you can always ask me, but hopefully you can find everything I've written for this event in whichever order suits your fancy from the links up above!
Thanks for reading!
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Tag list: @gala1981
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iwritewhump · 8 months
Text
"You have to promise I'll come back" + returning home + muffled screams
day 24 of @whumptember
658 words
warnings: young whumpee (implied), betrayal, recapture, physical overpowering
part two | part three
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“Villain?” Hero asks, lowering her head to his level. He stares at her, eyes fuzzy. His eyebrows knit together and Hero repeats herself, “Will you be able to do this?” 
He nods, “Yeah, I-I can do that. Just, um, promise I’ll come back?” 
Hero scans his face, forcing a smile, “Of course you’ll come back, if I thought anything would happen to you, I wouldn’t let you go.” she puts her hands on his shoulders and pulls him into a hug, “Nothing’s going to happen. You have my word.” 
He rests his chin in the crook of her neck and closes his eyes, reveling in her comfort. She pats his back and pulls away. Sniffling, she bumps his forehead with her fist and stands up. “You ready?” 
He nods and takes the hand she offers, squeezing it tightly as they walk out of Hero’s base and to the car. The ride is silent, Hero steals quick looks at him, making sure he wasn’t just doing this for her. He had to want to do this, not just feel obligated. God, she hopes this is the right choice. 
The car stops in front of Supervillain’s lair. Hero glances at Villain, and smiles when he looks at her. “We can go back,” she offers. “Right now. We could leave and go back. But as soon as we get out of the car, there’s no turning around.” 
She’s begging him, begging him to let her save him. To let them turn away and for her to take care of him until she dies. But he won’t let her. Because he doesn’t know. 
He shakes his head and steps out of the car, “We can do this. Then, we can go back. It’ll be alright, we can watch cartoons all night and sleep in.” 
She clears her throat and ruffles his hair, “And we can make cookies for breakfast.” 
“Lunch,” he corrects. “I’m not waking up before noon.” 
She bites her cheek and takes a step forward, “Lunch it is.” 
They walk into the lair, Villain getting closer to her by the step until he’s all but clinging to her. She wraps an arm around his shoulder and presses a kiss to his temple, hoping to keep him calm. 
“Ah,” Supervillain says, descending the staircase. “You brought him.” 
Villain tenses under her, trying to hide under her arm. He whispers, “What’s he talking about?” 
Hero stares ahead and ignores him, “Where do we go?” 
Villain tries to pull away from her, “What are you doing? This was supposed-you promised! Hero, please.” he digs his heels into the ground. “Don’t do this. You promised me.” 
She wraps her other arm around him and hugs him tightly. With a breaking voice she says, “I’m so sorry, Villain. This is the only way to stop him.” 
Supervillain comes up behind him and takes him from her, a small smile on his face. “You did the right thing. He’s all I wanted.” He holds Villain close against him, a hand digging into his shoulder to keep him still. “You’ve saved your city, congratulations.” 
“Wait!” she says, running up to Villain. She cups his cheek and bites the inside of her lip, “I’m so sorry, Villain.” 
He stares at her, tears forming in his eyes. “You’re sorry?” he spits. “You fucking promised me. You promised I wouldn’t end up here again. You looked at me, in the fucking eyes and promised I’d be ok. You said-”
Supervillain cuts him off with a hand over his mouth. “That’s enough.” Villain struggles under his hand, still screaming at her. The tears fall down his cheeks and his face turns red. “You should go, Hero. It’s not going to get any better. You know how he is.” 
She glances at him again, heart aching at the sight of his small frame under Supervillain’s hand. She runs out of the lair, forcing herself to look ahead. It was the only way.
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